Features
Jungles, ruins and shipwrecks
by Somasiri Devendra
Jungles fascinate me. It was a fascination that had been kindled by my father, as well as John Still, both of whom were archaeologists and writers. But, somehow, I never became one who trod the forest ways regularly. The jungle spoke to me in a different idiom – to my heart rather than my head.
Father, a teacher before turning archaeologist, became our teacher in English literature. Our text was John Still’s The jungle tide and, from the beginning, both the teacher and the author held the class spellbound. The slow progress made through the opening chapter describing a rain forest only served to stamp more deeply in my mind the world that was the jungle.
Years later I read Leonard Woolf’s haunting description of the dry zone jungle in Village In The Jungle. I always think of these two kinds of jungle – rain forest described by Still and secondary scrub by Woolf – in their words.
Trips with an archaeologist
Not long after he interpreted Still to us, father joined the Archaeological Survey of Ceylon, as it was then. He loved the work and found every excuse to go on circuit, leaving his desk. Each time he came back, he was brimful of experiences and what we learnt from him round the dining table was more than anything a university could teach.
His interests were eclectic and the tale would flit effortlessly from treasure hunters at a ruined dagoba, to a dung beetle at work, the cult of Aiyanar, a bungalow-keeper’s encounter with a wild elephant, the migrant birds, the gaemi-kavi of village pilgrims seeking male progeny from Kalu Devatha Bandara (the guardian-deity of the Sri Maha Bodhiya), and the man who manufactured sarvagna dhathu.
Being then in the class preparing for an examination, I could go with him only occasionally, but even that was wonderful. Striking inland from Puttalam, on the way to Anuradhapura, the road was, in season, bordered by weera trees in bearing and we would stop to break down the most reachable branches and strip off all the berries. He would nonchalantly remark that this was elephant country and they, too relished these berries.
Passing through the Kurunegala route, we never went past the Aiyanar jungle shrine, a mere tree, without plucking off a twig and offering it to this mysterious deity. The tree-shrine, thankfully, is still there.
Ambitious development schemes were afoot and father went to inspect work at Gal Oya, where bulldozers were turning back the jungle tide. The impact of these behemoths must have made a strong impression on him: I still have his photographs of trees being pulled down. Perhaps, it was this that prompted him to induct us into our fast disappearing cultural and environmental heritage.
Veddha songs
He took us to see the Veddahs, who were old men in the late 1940s. They sang us their songs swaying to a rhythm of their own. It was hardly music to our ears but, definitely, a far cry from what is touted as Veddah music today. Among father’s favourite verses were a gaemi kaviya in praise of Sorabora Wewa (which Seligman attributed to the Veddahs, though this is unlikely).
The verses begin with –
Paalu rata-i Vanni-ye etha-nin oha ta
Golu gene panithi veli-hinniyo aenga ta
Seru avith dive-kelinaa sonde ruwa ta
Yaa-lu thopith giyado horabora weva ta?
“It’s waste land in the Vanni from here onwards, Screaming, the she-bear will pounce on you
And the seruwas sport in the water, pleasing the eye And you, friend, have you, too, been to Sorabora lake?”
and end thus:-
Horabora waevey weva degodey vananrata rey
Kapaa gal kaanu egodata eliya ke ley
Nelaa mal pahan veherata eganthe rey
Horabora wewa n
udutu aes motada pin ke ley?
“Deep in the forest on either bank
Sluices cut in the rock tap the water.
You offer flowers and light lamps at the shrine on the other bank
But of what use is merit to you, you eyes that have not seen Sorabora lake?”
Rantembe
Another jungle trek in Veddah country was from Aluthnuwara, through the jungle to Rantembe. All this must be under water now with the construction of the Rantembe resovoir, but it was thick jungle then and we had to go in single file. If the nade gura or leader found a rock on the path he warned galak (stone), and the one behind him repeated the warning. which went drawn the single file till it reached the last man, our driver, who duly repeated it to whoever was behind him, hoping nobody was!
The rapids of Rantembe were worth every aching muscle to see. The sheer power, the roar of the Mahaveli forced into a narrow gorge was reward enough. You cannot see any of this now: so our induction to the vanishing loveliness of Lanka was something worthwhile.
“Elephant” at Tantirimalai
Another day, we were following a footpath to Tantirimale, a temple in the jungle which was famous for its unfinished reclining Buddha statue, pre-historic drawings in a cave and an ancient bo tree growing out of a crack in a slab of rock.
We were about to climb up an incline, which was really the bund of an abandoned tank, when we suddenly saw a man on a bicycle atop the bund. He was wearing sunglasses in the jungle gloom. Seeing us, he let out a yell, dropped his bike and took to the trees! When we had rescued him still trembling, he had an explanation to offer: “I thought your jeep was an elephant”. Therein lay the moral: do not wear sunglasses in the jungle!
Farewell circuit
The year I graduated from Peradeniya and started work as a teacher at Kegalle father gave me HCP Bell’s Kegalle report to make me get my historical bearings. He also decided that he would retire from the Department – though not archaeology. He set about planning a long circuit, a final good-bye to all his beloved sites, as well as to follow up reports of some new finds. This time, I went with him.
Again, I remember the barely cleared monastic site of Arankele with its long, long sakinan-maluwa (pathway for meditation). On the way we stopped at a living forest hermitage, Ruwangirikanda, where we saw many a hermit and understood what moved a man to seek the solitude of the forest. Near Arankele was Gala-pica-gala (rock-upon-a-rock) where I learnt the principles of wind erosion. And so we went from one jungle ruin to another.
Off Polonnaruwa, we went towards Dimbulagala, which was dubbed Gunner’s Quoin by sailors at sea who used to take their bearings from it. On the way we trekked to a group of boulders entirely surrounded by forest, but not yet excavated. This was Pulligoda Gal-ge (gal-ge = cave). On one of its sides was a beautiful fresco of a group of celestial beings. I was told that these were either the earliest or the only examples – I forget which – of the use of the halo on beings other than the Buddha.
Walking back to where we had parked the car, we came upon a site called Kos-gaha Ulpotha. It was a jungle spring of beautifully clear water.
At Dimbulagala, a man seeking a place for meditation had come to live in a cave. His mission was to destroy the paintings. He would comb the forest for buffalo dung and, in the nights dissolve it in water into a paint-like consistency and using a broomstick as a brush, paint over all the ancient paintings. By the time his act became known, it was impossible to remove the offending layer without destroying the paintings under it. The chemists were yet working on the problem. We saw the damage, but what could one do?
A lucky escape
I had another adventure in those parts. It was twenty years or so later, when I was working in Trincomalee. Kantalai was fully colonized by then. One day, friends visiting my brother, then the Government Agent, offered me a ride to Colombo. Gallantly, they gave me the front seat of the absolutely new car. We had passed Kantalai tank and the light was beginning to fade. There was a wide curve in the road and Joe, who was driving, asked me to switch off the tape-recorder so that he could switch on the lights.
I did not know how to do it, so he leaned over and did it. At that moment, an elephant thundered out of the jungle, where people were clearing a chena, and ran across the road. Joe promptly stood on the brakes but, before he could bring the car to a dead halt, another elephant, only about six6 to seven feet in height, ran in front of us. We hit him broadside, between the front and hind legs.
Caught in mid stride, he fell over; legs rolling up under the impact. Joe did a quick gear change and we took off like a rocket, swerving round the prone animal, just as the rest of the herd ran out of the jungle behind us. We kept going at top speed for about ten minutes, before getting out to assess the damage The radiator grill had caved in but, luckily the headlight and radiator itself were unharmed and we could go on. We reported the incident at the Habarana Police Station and carried on.
Flood relief
In 1958, we had torrential rains and floods in the country, including the least expected areas in the dry zone As was usual in such instances, all and sundry began collecting contributions for the flood victims and we teachers at Ananda College, too collected a sizeable stock. We were advised not to hand over the money but to adopt one of the affected villages and rehabilitate it. Our village was Hiriwadunna, some miles before reaching Habaran from Colombo. Apart from looking after the immediate needs of the villagers, we teachers in the upper forms used the village as a field laboratory, taking groups of student on various surveys that brought to life history, geography, botany, and the way of life in a village. What an experience it turned out to be! Probing old men’s memories turned out to be a great learning adventure.
Something the villagers said would have made eminent sense today. They were able to trace the water that came to their tank from its source: “When a tank overflowed, that water came to another tank, and when that too overflowed, it went to a third” and so on, tracing the route traversed by the water in their own tank from the beginning to the very end.
Decades later, when the cascade system was understood by our irrigation engineers, I related this concept to some of them and they admitted that they had never tapped the villagers’ reservoir of oral history.
When I asked the old folk whether there were ruins in the jungle around them, they undertook to show them to me. So I trekked with them to a thickly forested spot not far away, and came upon the remains of a small monastery. There were columns and slabs pushed aside by the living trees as they grew, and yet untouched by the archaeologist. I could not find any inscription to copy, but came upon a stone cistern, made of four slabs of stone, about waist high. Three of these were still upright, forming three sides of a square, and the fourth was lying flat on the ground. It showed two grooves chiseled for the other slabs to fit in snugly. This fit was good enough to last many centuries. I wonder how many ruins, like this one, are hidden in the forest.
Pooneryn
In the 1960s when I was in the Navy, we were called upon to open a new camp in an area totally unknown to us, but which is familiar to many now. There was an operation on to combat illicit immigration from India to Sri Lanka.
The Navy went to reinforce the Army and the sector allocated to us was Pooneryn, off Vavuniya. It was a forested, sparsely populated area just beyond an old Dutch Fort. The base camp, which was a collection of aluminium sheds, was set up in a clearing. We had a string of small outposts along the seashore to watch for incoming boats. Small groups of men would patrol those lovely, lonely beaches. There was only the main road, but none leading to the outposts until jeeps crashed through the undergrowth making tracks that later became roads.
So little was happening there and game was plentiful, that everyone became a hunter or fisherman. Driving through the open villu, we often came upon jackals, who were not in the least perturbed by us, peacocks and elephants. I remember seeing my first Ceylon magpie. The open stretch near base camp was like a slate on which was freshly written every night the tracks of all kinds of animals which had wandered there.
The outposts had to be visited day and night. During the day, we found it easier to drive along the beach from one point to another. There was no sign of anybody else or animals, but there was plenty of bird life. The most intriguing animals were fish, which swam in the very foam of the waves. As we roared and skidded along the beach, we could see before us fish after fish diving back to the deeper waters as they sensed our approach.
At night we kept to the roads. Driving through patches of arching forest alternating with open villu, one could predict which of the two he was passing through with his eyes shut. The skin was the sensory organ, for one felt warm while traversing forests and cold in the villu. It was exhilarating to go from warmth to coldness, from bright moonlight to “tunnels of green gloom”. As always, it is the sights, sounds, smells and other physical phenomena that spell “jungle” to me.
Elephants were plentiful. We had unknowingly built one post under a large tree the elephants used to scratch their backs on. The entire tree would start shaking in the night and the human inhabitants would seek refuge on the beach! One night I remember driving back along an abandoned tank bund, which was blocked by branches torn down by elephants. There was no way of reversing, so we had to get down and clear the way. Steaming piles of elephant droppings were around us and we could hear the culprits pulling more branches. But they were not worried by our presence and both animal and man went their separate ways peacefully. Pooneryn was a wonderful place then.
Mansions of the sea
The year was 1930. The scene was Dodanduwa, the last home of the traditional three-masted sailing ships of the Sinhalese, the yathra dhoni or maha-oruwa. The occasion was the launching of a ship. Two friends, one an entrepreneur and the other a seaman, had joined forces to build and launch this vessel that, though no one knew it at the time, was fated to be the last of her breed.
Kariyavasam Patuvata Vithanage Don Siyadoris de Silva, land owner, and Punchi Sinno Marakkalaehe, mariner, hoped that their freighter, by now named Amugoda Oruva, would do brisk business with South India and the Maldives. To mark her maiden voyage to Male, verses were composed, among which was:-
Gaman yanna naekatin oruva baa geney
Saman deyiyanta puda panduru baenda geney
Viman sagarey kanu mul soya geney
Apit yamuva haema deviyanta vaenda geney
“Auspiciously have we launched our vessel
And made our offerings to the god of Adam’s Peak
Let us now worship all the gods and go In search of the mansions of the sea.”
No god, alas, heard their pious prayers and the proud ship foundered on the reefs of Male, leaving those left behind in Dodanduwa to sing her dirges:
Metaenin oruva baa laa gati varaayata
Diyamba porn sata divve tharangataya
Kopamana ruval aedalaa divvat sondata
Amugoda oruva tava naeta aave gamata
“From here was the vessel taken to the port
And many a league did she race along under sail,
But however many sails were hoisted, and however fair she sailed
Amugoda Oruva never made home again.”
Sixty years or so later I was in Galle, organizing an international group of maritime archaeologists who were training a clutch of our young archaeology undergraduates and, at the same time, compiling a data base of shipwrecks in Galle Bay. Among the group was Tom Vosmer, an Australian boat ethnographer, with whom I discussed the Amugoda Oruwa and the large 100-year old model of a yathra dhoni at Kumarakanda Pirivena, Dodanduwa, that I had been privileged to photo record.
Tom was enthusiastic, for this was the last of a type of large outrigger-equipped sailing ships which could be traced back to the time of Borobudur. Days were spent in examining the model, and measuring, photographing and making detailed drawings of structural details. Built by the young son of a ship-owner, around 1890, it had been awarded a gold medal by the Governor. Tom considered that its accuracy, both in scale and detail, made it a fairly reliable source for (????????)
A supermoon has lit up the sky across the world coinciding with a rare partial lunar eclipse.
The Moon could be seen to appear brighter and bigger on Tuesday night.
Supermoons happen when the Moon is at its closest point to Earth in its orbit.
A rare partial lunar eclipse – when the Earth’s shadow covers part of the Moon – also happened with about 4% of the Moon’s disc covered in darkness.
Over night from Tuesday into Wednesday, the partial lunar eclipse was visible across the globe – with some of the clearest sightings in the UK and the US.
In the UK it occurred between 01:40 BST and 05:47, reaching its peak at 03:44.
For those in the US, the eclipse is visible between 20:41 EST and 00:47 – or 22:44 at its maximum.
The eclipse was also visible in Latin America, Europe and Africa, as well as small parts of Asia and the Middle East .
This month’s full moon – known as the Harvest moon – is the second of four “supermoons” this year.
The next partial eclipse will be in August 2026, which will be special as around 96% of the Moon will be in shadow.
[BBC]
Ranil’s Theravada Alignment:
The Ranil’s manifesto claims that Sri Lanka became the “granary of the East” by adhering to Theravada economic policies, yet it does not explicitly define these policies. Instead, it contradicts this assertion by pointing out that Vietnam, a Mahayana Buddhist nation, followed Thailand’s lead. Despite Thailand’s traditional association with Theravada Buddhism, it adopted policies that resemble those of Mahayana-influenced countries like Japan. These policies, particularly in the tourism sector, introduced revolutionary changes that seem contrary to Theravada principles, further complicating the argument.
He also emphasized the relevance of Theravada Buddhism in addressing the challenges of a rapidly evolving world, driven by science and technology. Speaking virtually at the State Vesak Ceremony at Dharmaraja Piriven Viharaya, in Matale, on the 23 May 2024, he highlighted the need to preserve the core values of Theravada Buddhism and share its wisdom globally.
Buddhism, beyond its spiritual teachings, has deeply influenced socio-economic life across Asia. Theravada and Mahayana, the two main branches of Buddhism, offer contrasting views not only on religious practice but also on economic principles. Both schools emphasize ethical behaviour, compassion, and non-attachment to material possessions. However, their divergent philosophical outlooks lead to varying interpretations of economic activity, wealth accumulation, and societal roles.
Foundations of Economic Thought in Buddhism
The core teachings of Buddhism focus on the Middle Path, a balance between indulgence and asceticism, with the ultimate goal of reducing suffering (dukkha). These teachings shape both Theravada and Mahayana views on wealth and economics. Central to this framework is the Buddhist view of interdependence and the moral consequences of actions (karma). Economic activities, according to Buddhism, should align with ethical principles that promote collective well-being rather than personal greed.
Ranil cites the Samaññaphala Sutta to assert that in Theravada tradition, loans should be used for investments, not consumption. However, I could not find such a claim in the Samaññaphala Sutta (Fruits of the Contemplative Life, translated by Thanissaro Bhikkhu). Instead, according to the Singalovada Sutta, the Buddha taught that one should allocate only a quarter of their income for consumption, reinvest half of it to accumulate wealth, and reserve the remaining quarter for charity. Moreover, the Buddha emphasized, irrespective of Theravada or Mahayana, that failing to repay debts is a characteristic of an outcast (Wasalaya). This suggests that loans should be used for generating income to ensure repayment, rather than for daily consumption.
Theravada Economic Concepts
Theravada Buddhism, often regarded as more conservative and focused on individual liberation, emphasises personal responsibility in the accumulation and use of wealth. It is dominant in countries like Sri Lanka, Thailand, Myanmar, and Cambodia, where economic behaviours often reflect the ethical values promoted by the teachings.
However, Ranil claims that Theravada economic policies are more export-oriented, but in reality, countries following Mahayana principles have been more successful in establishing export-driven economies. These Mahayana-influenced nations, such as Japan and China, have achieved greater success in building robust export-oriented systems compared to traditionally Theravada countries.
In Theravada Buddhism, the goal of life is personal enlightenment (Nirvana), and material wealth is seen as a potential obstacle if it leads to attachment. While wealth is not condemned, its mindful use is emphasized. Individuals are encouraged to follow “right livelihood,” engaging in ethical professions that do not harm others. Wealth is valued when used for virtuous purposes, such as supporting family, charity, and religious institutions. Generosity (Dana) is a key practice, believed to purify the mind and aid spiritual growth. Theravada also promotes social stability through wealth distribution, with the laity supporting the monastic community in exchange for spiritual guidance, fostering economic interdependence without excess materialism.
Mahayana Economic Concepts
Mahayana Buddhism, prominent in East Asia (China, Japan, Korea, Vietnam), offers a broader, more inclusive approach to spiritual practice. It emphasizes the Bodhisattva ideal, where individuals work not only for their own enlightenment but also for the liberation of all beings. This collective focus shapes economic views, promoting wealth as a tool for social responsibility and reducing suffering on a societal level. Wealth is seen positively if used altruistically, encouraging large-scale philanthropy, social welfare, and efforts to address inequality. Unlike Theravada’s focus on personal morality, Mahayana stresses compassionate action (karuna) and societal transformation to tackle the root causes of poverty and inequality.
Wealth, Ethics, and Capitalism
In both Theravada and Mahayana, wealth is viewed through an ethical lens, but with distinct approaches. Mahayana, with its broader focus on social responsibility, aligns more easily with modern economic systems like capitalism, viewing wealth creation as an opportunity for the greater good if guided by ethical principles. Theravada, on the other hand, takes a more cautious stance, promoting a simpler lifestyle and warning against excessive material accumulation. In Theravada societies, the monastic community (Sangha) provides a moral check on economic inequality. Mahayana’s emphasis on compassion has also led to socially conscious enterprises in East Asia, prioritizing sustainability, fair labour, and ethical products, reflecting the Bodhisattva ideal of using wealth for humanitarian purposes.
Ranil claims that Theravada economic policies are more export-oriented, but in reality, countries following Mahayana principles have been more successful in establishing export-driven economies. These Mahayana-influenced nations, such as Japan and China, have achieved greater success in building robust export-oriented systems compared to traditionally Theravada countries.
Sri Lanka, as a predominantly Theravada Buddhist country, has a long history of intertwining its religious principles with governance and economic policies. However, a critical examination reveals that the country’s modern economic policies, shaped by globalization and capitalism, increasingly diverge from traditional Theravada Buddhist concepts. While Sri Lankan society continues to emphasize Buddhist values in various aspects of life, its capitalistic economic structure suggests a closer alignment with the broader, more flexible economic interpretations found in Mahayana Buddhism.
Sri Lanka’s Capitalistic Economic Policies
Post-independence Sri Lanka has seen significant shifts in its economic policy, particularly following the liberalization of the economy in 1977. These changes introduced free-market principles, deregulation, and foreign direct investment, which moved the country toward a capitalist economic model. The focus shifted from self-sufficiency and state-controlled economic activities to embracing global trade, privatization, and open markets.
The rise of private enterprise, multinational corporations, and consumer culture indicates a move away from the traditional Theravada ethos of simplicity and non-attachment. In this context, the rapid urbanization, expansion of tourism, and increasing wealth inequality seem more aligned with capitalist values, where material success and profit maximization are prioritized over ethical considerations of wealth distribution
Closer Alignment to Mahayana Economic Principles
Sri Lanka’s capitalist policies reflect this Mahayana-like flexibility. Wealth accumulation, entrepreneurship, and international trade are embraced, but with a growing focus on corporate social responsibility (CSR) and philanthropy. Large corporations and wealthy individuals are often seen contributing to charitable causes, building schools, hospitals, and donating to religious institutions. These actions mirror the Mahayana ideal of using wealth for the greater good, though not necessarily limiting personal accumulation.
He claims that many countries have succeeded by promoting private enterprises and that his Theravada economic system will be a much broader version of this. However, he does not clearly explain how this broader approach—typically associated with Mahayana tradition—aligns with Theravada principles. In fact, most of the economic concepts he references stem from Mahayana traditions. By invoking the term “Theravada,” he seems to be appealing to the Sri Lankan Buddhist community, assuming that people will be swayed by this rhetoric, much like they were with the Kelani River cobra myth and Safi’s allegations, which were sensationalized by certain media outlets.
Consumerism and Buddhist Values
Sri Lanka’s burgeoning consumer culture further highlights the tension between traditional Theravada values and the realities of a capitalist economy. The rise of consumerism, especially in urban centres, encourages material accumulation and status competition, which is antithetical to the Theravada emphasis on contentment and non-attachment. Advertising and media increasingly promote luxury goods and services, feeding a cycle of desire and consumption that stands in contrast to the Middle Path.
This mirrors trends seen in Mahayana Buddhist countries like Japan and China, where consumerism exists alongside Buddhist practice. In these countries, Buddhism has adapted to modern economic realities by focusing on charitable giving and social responsibility rather than strict asceticism.
Social Welfare and Wealth Redistribution
Sri Lanka’s current economic policies diverge from traditional Theravada Buddhism, which emphasizes wealth distribution through support for the Sangha and charitable acts. Instead, Sri Lanka has experienced growing inequality, with urban elites benefiting more from economic growth while rural and marginalized communities remain impoverished. In contrast, Mahayana Buddhism’s Bodhisattva ideal aligns with the state’s sporadic welfare programmes and redistributive policies, such as free education and healthcare. However, these programmes are often hindered by inefficiencies, corruption, and a capitalist system that prioritizes profit over equitable growth.
Conclusion
Ranil’s emphasis on aligning his policies with Theravada tradition appears to be more of a marketing gimmick or salesman’s puff—an overstated claim intended to persuade the predominantly Theravada Buddhist community, which believes that Theravada concepts are original Buddhism. This community has lost faith in his commitment to protecting Buddhism as required by the Constitution. By invoking Theravada values, he likely aims to regain their trust, despite the exaggeration or lack of doctrinal grounding in his statements.
by Lasanda Kurukulasuriya
National People’s Power presidential candidate Anura Kumara Dissanayake (AKD), on Sirasa TV’s Satana programme on Saturday (14) elaborated on aspects of the party’s policy statements that have been the subject of some controversy. Grilled by a panel of four journalists, he revealed details of some of the JVP-led alliance’s policies, and appeared to have somewhat revised others. On the subject of India’s stranglehold on Sri Lanka’s Power and Energy sector through agreements already entered into by government, AKD categorically declared that the Adani group’s controversial wind power projects in the North would be cancelled (Anivaarayenma meka cancel karanawa). This is an interesting development, considering that just seven months ago, in an interview on their return from a visit to India, the party suggested that India should have first call on tenders for major projects. In that interview with Sirasa, the JVP leader once known for an anti-Indian stance argued in a surprising turnaround, that projects would have to be ‘within NPP’s national policy framework’ but “within that, we should go for an agreement with India.” (The Island 15.04.24 – Is the JVP signalling left and turning right?)
In past months the NPP appears to have finetuned its campaign promises on how it proposes to fix a rotten political culture, by balancing an element continuity in policy with changes that would address needs of people hard-hit by the economic crisis. Among the key takeaways from the promised reforms under his presidency if elected, were, to put an end to political appointments, banish political protection of criminals, and remove Value Added Tax (VAT) from food as well as education and health related items. On the IMF agreement, he said their policy was not to exit it, but go forward with discussions on other ways of achieving its targets. There was no point in reaching targets on inflation, increased revenue, ratio of debt to GDP, etc., if the social impact was such that people suffered for lack of basic needs, he argued.
Energy sovereignty
Responding to a journalist’s question on how he proposed to address the threat to energy sovereignty posed by deals entered into with India’s Adani group, the JVP/NPP leader went into some detail on the dubious nature of the agreement. Power generated by Adani’s (500MW) wind power plants in Mannar and Pooneryn would be sold to Sri Lanka for 8.2 US cents per unit (kilo watt hour), while a bid from a local producer for a much smaller 50MW wind power plant in the same vicinity, around the same time, had offered a rate of 4.2 US cents per unit. There is something wrong here and we will definitely cancel this agreement, he said. Going further, he referred to the incongruity of India’s suggestion that Sri Lanka would be able to sell any surplus power that is generated, to India. (This was suggested by Indian National Security Advisor Ajit Doval in talks with officials during his recent visit to Sri Lanka.) AKD claimed that India (while selling power to Sri Lanka at 8.2 US cents per unit) planned to buy any surplus of that same power, from Sri Lanka, at just 3.8 US cents per unit! Reference was also made to Bangladesh, whose new interim government is questioning the terms under which an Adani owned company in India is selling power to Bangladesh.
Dissanayake said that Indian companies would want an explanation from their government as to why Adani was given preference for the Mannar wind power project. However, he did not refer to Sri Lankan companies’ questioning of government on unsolicited proposals and bidding processes. This is at a time when local renewable energy producers are up in arms over step-motherly treatment. He said power generation could be opened up to the private sector, but that transmission and distribution should be controlled by the state. While the recently passed controversial Electricity (Amendment) Act was not specifically mentioned, it would seem that it would need to be repealed or amended under such a policy.
AKD also commented on the Trincomalee Oil Tank Farm, in response to a question relating to ‘something signed by the President,’ on it. (‘Further development of the Oil Tank Farms’ was part of an MoU exchanged last year in India, by President Ranil Wickremesinghe with Indian PM Narendra Modi, on projects in the Trincomalee District.) Dissanayake said his party agreed with some of the conditions but rejected others.
The topic of the oil tanks was not brought up by India he said, but by him, in talks at the Indian High Commission in Colombo. A government under him would use between 8 to 16 tanks for fuel distribution in the North and East, and this would be a big saving when compared to the cost of transporting it from Colombo. The rest could be developed as a joint venture between Sri Lanka and India. He said it was ok to have an oil pipeline connecting Sri Lanka and India (one of the projects agreed on in the MoUs signed in Delhi). He referred to a new refinery to be handled by the Ceylon Petroleum Company (CPC) or a local company, noting that these were complex tasks. “Our location is good for a fuel hub” he said.
Asked about the Indo-Lanka Peace Agreement (of 1987), he said the joint development of the Trincomalee Oil Tank Farm became a condition in it against a backdrop of Indian concerns over pro-US moves by the government at the time. Former President J. R. Jayewardene had allowed a Voice of America broadcasting station there, etc. The global balance of power is different now he said, and the US enters the picture having accepted India’s primacy in the region. Dissanayake said they were well aware of geopolitical developments and big power rivalry in the region.
Crime and politics
In relation to crime, a journalist referred to the raft of killings in broad daylight by gunmen using T56 rifles, witnessed in the streets ‘like a movie,’ not long ago. He noted that there was no IGP at present. Since the election was called, there have been no killings and no more talk of the underworld. Was it because politicians were busy with election work, he quipped. AKD in his response went on to list the names of notorious underworld characters, describing the power they wielded during the rule of presidents of the day, from JR to CBK to ‘the Rajapaksas.’ “Is this not political protection?” he asked. When narcotics are seized, the vehicles in which they are being transported are found to belong to politicians. Vowing to bust the nexus between politicians and organised crime, he said under his government no child will become a victim of drugs. We may be ‘small people’ but “we owe nothing, and fear nothing” (Api nayath ne, bayath ne)
No jumbo Cabinet
A JVP/NPP government’s Cabinet would be limited to 25 ministers, Dissanayake said. The number of deputy ministers would probably exceed that number, but there would be no ‘state ministers.’ The current ministers and state ministers enjoyed the same benefits, the only difference being that state ministers did not attend Cabinet meetings, he said. Asked about ‘Advisors to the President’ he said the maximum number of appointments would be 15.
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News5 days ago
Anura criticises Ranil’s erratic behaviour
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Features4 days ago
Countdown Week in Sri Lanka and Debate Week in the US
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News6 days ago
ITAK reaffirms support for Sajith Premadasa
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Features4 days ago
Ranil talks to the Sunday papers, fields wide-ranging questions
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News5 days ago
Immigration and Emigration Chief ordered to appear before SC for failing to comply with order
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News4 days ago
SJB council member urges women to vote for Sajith Premadasa for his commitment to women’s issues
