Features
Reconstructing the SLFP
By Uditha Devapriya
In my very brief essay on the history of the SLFP, I pointed out that several events preceded and laid the groundwork for the 1956 election. I noted that many of these events involved the UNP, even under John Kotelawala’s stewardship. I also observed that, unlikely as it may seem now, it was Dudley Senanayake, not Bandaranaike, who the Buddhist clergy wanted to lead the revival, and it was to him that they went. Yet, in the final analysis, it was the SLFP and not the UNP that headed the movement. And incongruous as he seems to us today, it was Bandaranaike who became its voice, through the SLFP.
Sinhala nationalists and propagandists link the SLFP’s win to the anti-colonial struggle, and depict the party as the successor to the martyrs of the Uva Wellassa Rebellion, Weera Puran Appu, and Anagarika Dharmapala. The nationalists’ explanation of what went wrong after 1956 is that Bandaranaike imbibed too many liberal ideas to take the struggle to its logical conclusion. In the same vein, his widow cohabited with Marxists, who apparently destroyed local entrepreneurship and proceeded to enforce measures that, in the words of Gunadasa Amarasekara, “made life impossible for the middle class, and the poor.”
The conventional reading of the SLFP, accordingly, is that it used to be a nationalist party, but has since become a captive of foreign interests. What this assumes that the rank and file of the party were progressive in their views and it was with the advent of the Marxists, and later the NGO-cracy, that they went downhill. In the words of Gunadasa Amarasekara, “[t]he UNP was founded on the liberal ideology of the West, the Socialist parties were founded on Marxism, which once again was a product of the West.” The implication there, of course, is that the SLFP could become a party “of the soil” only by steering clear of both.
Amarasekara traces the SLFP’s origins to the Buddhist revival, and in doing so he links it to the two institutions set up at the turn of the 19th century by the stalwarts of the revival, Vidyodaya and Vidyalankara. Profoundly influenced by the work done at these institutions, Anagarika Dharmapala sought to take their message “to the masses.” It was that message which became a catalyst for the formation of the Party.
Amarasekara considers Dharmapala as embodying a progressive ideology, one which S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike became heir to when he set up the Sinhala Maha Sabha and the SLFP. A wide array of social forces rallied around these outfits, resulting in a conjunction of sangha, vedha, guru, govi, and kamkaru. Amarasekara notes that, to Bandaranaike’s credit, he was the only member of the colonial elite who took stock of these developments.
Fairly accurate as this account of the SLFP’s is, it omits certain points. First and foremost, anti-nationalist as the Marxists may be in Amarasekara’s book, they nevertheless found common cause with the clergy. This is not an omission made by nationalists only: I have with me a collection of 19 essays on Buddhism in Sri Lanka published by an avowedly secular civil society institution in the country, and none of them as much as mentions monks who joined the Old Marxist Left, among them Udakendawala Sri Saranankara.
Such an omission is not hard to explain, striking though it is. In most liberal and non-Marxist accounts, Buddhist monks overreached themselves and went beyond their call of duty by involving themselves in politics, whatever their ideology may have been. Indeed, very few scholars, including Regi Siriwardena and Kumari Jayawardena, noted that their forays into the Left helped them to break away from their conservative roots. Such a rupture held the promise of a radical role for the Buddhist clergy, a prospect denied by the more parochial among them as well as by the elite’s opposition to their involvement in politics.
Unfortunate as it is, then, liberal opprobrium against nationalism and nationalist hostility to Marxism have compelled both sides to neglect the potential the clergy possessed at the turn of the century, when they joined hands with the only anti-imperialist political formation in the country. Accordingly, in liberal narratives as in nationalist ones, Sinhala nationalists have been insulated from progressive politics and viewed in isolation. When one accounts for this omission, one realises that a very different account of the country’s political parties is called for. That is where we need to revisit the SLFP’s history.
The SLFP was the logical heir and successor to the Sinhala Maha Sabha, which S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike chose to make a part of the UNP. Gunadasa Amarasekara is correct when he criticises the view of the Sabha as a chauvinistic outfit as unjust and unfair. Both the Sabha and the SLFP gave vent to the cultural aspirations of a community that had been tied to 400 years of colonial rule. Insofar as it spoke to this group, the SLFP possessed an emancipatory potential, which could well have made it a fellow traveller of the Old Left.
However, subsequent events proved that this was not to be. Yes, the SLFP did possess a progressive potential, but then this was not the same as being a progressive party. At its inception it was composed of a myriad interests, some progressive in their outlook, others not so, and still others conservative and no different to the comprador elites in the UNP that they considered to be their foes. Not surprisingly, the party’s victory in 1956 did not usher in a triumph for all these class elements; only a certain bloc therein.
Various writers describe this bloc as a national or even nationalist bourgeoisie, forgetting that, as Andre Gunder Frank would say of the Latin American middle-class, they were more bourgeois than nationalist. Their conservative inclinations came out quite palpably in their opposition to the more radical policies of the Bandaranaike government, particularly Philip Gunawardena’s land-to-the-tiller programme: a point that James Manor underscores in his account of S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike’s political career.
The lack of any difference between the Westernised elite’s and the Sinhala middle-class’s attitude to radical reform led stalwarts of the Old Left, particularly Hector Abhayavardhana, to class the SLFP as the alternative party of the bourgeoisie and later the party of the petty bourgeoisie. Judging by the political choices and interventions of this milieu over the last 50 years, one can hardly call their ideology progressive. That is why the Marxists’ view of them as being no different to the comprador elite holds much ground.
In any case, the political trajectory of the Sinhala middle-class does not bear out revisionist accounts of them. None less than some of the ideologues of the 1956 revolution turned the other way after the election win, shifting to the UNP. More than a decade later, in 1977, an overwhelming majority of the Sinhala middle-class voted for the United National Party, on the grounds that the SLFP’s policies were strangling their economic prospects.
Sixteen years of UNP rule de-industrialised the country and facilitated the sell-out of crucial sectors to private interests. Yet despite contributing to such a state of affairs, what these bred among nationalist ranks was not so much a political critique as a cultural critique of the UNP regime, a critique which evolved into a political movement when, as per Amarasekara, the SLFP abandoned its cultural moorings and embraced an amorphous “multi-ethnic, multi-racial, multireligious, multi-cultural” identity under Chandrika Kumaratunga.
However intriguing as it might be, this cultural critique misses certain points: in particular, the SLFP’s turnaround from a left-of-centre to a more neoliberal agenda in the Kumaratunga regime. For nationalists, the SLFP’s turnaround remains reducible to the de-culturalisation of its leader. In my opinion, such a view neglects certain other considerations.
To Amarasekara’s credit he does not ignore these other points: he admits that “the greatest harm inflicted on the SLFP” was its volte-face from “anti-imperialist, pro nationalist and pro socialist” policies. But this was a turnaround that was not necessarily opposed by nationalist elements, as I have contended in my two-part essay on Jathika Chintanaya: by now the most fervent Sinhala ideologues had accepted the rationale for such a shift, i.e. that globalisation could not be held back and socialist politics were no longer tenable.
Many of these ideologues consider the Sirimavo Bandaranaike government as a disaster because it destroyed Sinhalese capitalists. But the question can validly be asked as to what Sinhalese capitalists, especially under this administration, have done to further the aims of anti-imperialist nationalism. The truth is that most of them remain as beholden to foreign capital as their “Westernised” counterparts. Unlike certain commentators, hence, I see no real difference between the SLFP leaning “national-minded” petty bourgeoisie and the UNP leaning “liberal-minded” bourgeoisie. Each is as compradorist as the other.
Where does the SLFP figure in all this? Strange as it seems, I find Gunadasa Amarasekara’s metaphor to be an apt summing up of its dilemma: it has become a kavandaya, a headless corpse, trying to find its way out and abysmally failing to do so. That is perhaps its biggest legacy from the Kumaratunga regime, which single-handedly axed the Left and turned the party into a Third Way outfit, a front for comprador interests.
I agree with Amarasekara’s point that the blame for that lies, not so much with those who denied the children of 1956 an opportunity to realise their aspirations, as those children themselves. In turning away from the more radical ideals of 1956, they paved the way for the denial of their own aspirations. And yet, stunted though they are, they remain a force to reckon with, even today. It is this, more than anything else, that keeps the SLFP relevant – as much to the country’s political consciousness as to its cultural inheritance.
The writer can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com
Features
The Paradox of Coercion: US strategy and the global re-emergence of Iran
(A sequel to the two-part article, War with Iran and unravelling of the global order, published in The Island on April 8 and 9.)
The unfolding developments in the US-Israeli coordinated military attack against Iran reveal a striking paradox at contemporary geopolitics: efforts to weaken a state through coercion may, under certain conditions, contribute to its structural elevation within the international system. What appears as short-term tactical success can generate long-term strategic consequences that are neither anticipated nor easily reversible. In this context, the policies associated with Donald Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu, marked by unilateralism and the willingness to use force, risk producing precisely such an unintended outcome. Rather than marginalising Iran, their actions may be accelerating its re-emergence, not merely as a regional actor in the Middle East, but as a consequential player in the global geopolitics and the wider architecture of international supply chains of energy economy.
Iran not merely a state
Iran is not merely a state, but a civilisation with a distinctive political trajectory. At the heart of the present transformation lies its asymmetric strategy, rooted in the strategic exploitation of geography. Few states possess the capacity to shape the global system through geography alone. Iran’s proximity to the Strait of Hormuz, a narrow maritime passage through which a substantial share of the world’s oil and liquefied natural gas flows, endows it with a latent structural power that transcends conventional measures of national capability.
In periods of stability, this position translates into economic opportunity; in moments of crisis, it becomes a lever of systemic disruption. Recent tensions have demonstrated that even limited instability in this corridor can reverberate across global markets, triggering sharp increases in energy prices, disrupting supply chains, and amplifying inflationary pressures worldwide. Should Iran consolidate its capacity to influence or control this chokepoint, whether through military deterrence, asymmetric instruments, or diplomatic maneuvering, it would shift from being a participant in global energy markets to a pivotal arbiter of their functioning.
Energy-embedded global economy
The contemporary global economy is not merely energy-dependent; it is deeply energy-embedded. Hydrocarbons underpin not only transportation and electricity generation but also the production of petrochemicals, fertilisers, and a wide range of industrial inputs essential to modern manufacturing and food systems. Disruptions linked to Iran have already illustrated how shocks in the energy sector cascade through interconnected supply chains, affecting everything from agricultural output to high-technology industries. In this sense, Iran’s leverage is no longer confined to the traditional realm of resource geopolitics. It increasingly operates within a networked global system in which control over a single critical node can generate disproportionate influence across multiple sectors. This form of power, diffuse, indirect, and systemic, marks a departure from the more linear dynamics of twentieth-century oil politics.
The implications of such a shift are profound for the structure of the international order. For decades, the global system has been underpinned by a set of institutions, norms, and economic arrangements often described as the so-called liberal international order. Sanctions, financial controls, and diplomatic isolation have been key instruments through which dominant powers have sought to discipline states that challenge this order. However, Iran’s prolonged exposure to sanctions has compelled it to develop adaptive strategies: alternative trade networks, informal financial channels, and closer ties with non-Western partners. A crisis-induced re-entry into global markets would therefore not signify reintegration into the existing order, but rather the expansion of parallel systems that operate alongside, and sometimes in opposition to, it. In this context, Iran’s rise would contribute to the gradual fragmentation of the global economy, accelerating trends toward decoupling, regionalization, and the erosion of established institutional authority.
Decline of global order based on US hegemony
This process of fragmentation is closely linked to declining global order based on U.S. hegemony. A more globally consequential Iran would inevitably become a focal point in the strategic player in emerging multipolar world. For China, whose economic growth remains heavily dependent on secure energy supplies, deeper engagement with Iran would serve both economic and geopolitical objectives, reinforcing its presence in the broader Middle East and insulating it from vulnerabilities associated with maritime chokepoints. Russia, already positioned as a major energy exporter and a challenger to Western dominance, may find in Iran a complementary partner in reshaping global energy markets and contesting sanctions regimes. Meanwhile, countries across the Global South, including major importers such as India, would face a more complex strategic environment, characterized by heightened exposure to supply disruptions and increased pressure to navigate between competing power centers. In this emerging landscape, Iran would function less as an isolated actor and more as a pivotal node within a reconfigured network of global alignments.
Dynamics enhancing Iran’s strategic importance
Paradoxically, the very dynamics that enhance Iran’s strategic importance may also accelerate efforts to reduce dependence on the conditions that enable its influence. Recurrent energy shocks tend to catalyze policy responses aimed at diversification and resilience. States are likely to expand strategic reserves, invest in alternative supply routes, and accelerate transitions toward renewable energy and nuclear power. Over the longer term, such measures could diminish the centrality of fossil fuel chokepoints, thereby constraining Iran’s leverage. However, this transition will be uneven and contested. Advanced economies may possess the resources to adapt more rapidly, while developing countries remain structurally dependent on affordable hydrocarbons. In the interim, the global system may experience a prolonged period in which dependence on Iranian-linked energy flows coexists with attempts to transcend it—a duality that adds further complexity to the evolving geopolitical landscape.
Beyond material considerations, Iran’s potential re-emergence also signals a deeper transformation of the existing global order. Traditional metrics—military strength, economic size, technological capacity—remain somewhat important, but they are increasingly complemented by the ability to influence critical nodes within global networks. The capacity to disrupt, delay, or redirect flows of energy, goods, and capital can generate strategic effects that rival, or even surpass, those achieved through direct military confrontation. In this sense, Iran exemplifies a broader shift from territorial geopolitics to what might be termed network geopolitics. Control over chokepoints, supply chains, and infrastructural linkages become a central determinant of influence, enabling states with relatively limited ‘conventional’ capabilities to exert outsized impact on the international system.
Iran’s trajectory may be understood as a transition through several distinct phases: from a regional challenger seeking to assert influence within the Middle East, to a strategic disruptor capable of unsettling global markets, and ultimately to a systemic actor whose decisions carry worldwide consequences. This evolution is neither inevitable nor linear; it depends on a complex interplay of domestic resilience, external pressures, and the responses of other global actors. Nevertheless, the possibility itself underscores the unintended consequences of policies that prioritize short-term coercion over long-term strategic foresight.
Transition shaped by paradoxes
In historical perspective, moments of systemic transition are often shaped by such paradoxes. Actions taken to preserve an existing order can, under certain conditions, accelerate its transformation. The current crisis involving Iran may represent one such moment. By elevating the strategic significance of energy chokepoints, exposing the vulnerabilities of interconnected supply chains, and encouraging the development of alternative economic networks, it contributes to a broader reconfiguration of global power. In this emerging context, Iran’s re-emergence as a global actor would not simply reflect its own capabilities or ambitions; it would also embody the structural shifts reshaping the international system itself. What began as an effort to constrain Iran may ultimately facilitate its transformation into a decisive player in the global energy economy and supply chain architecture. The implications of this shift extend far beyond the Middle East, touching upon the stability of markets, the cohesion of international institutions, and the evolving nature of power in the twenty-first century.
The war with Iran is best understood not as a discrete regional conflict, but as a structural moment in the transformation of the international system. It reveals a growing disjuncture between the continued reliance on coercive statecraft and the realities of an interdependent global order in which power increasingly derives from control over critical economic and infrastructural nodes. Rather than achieving strategic containment, the conflict has underscored the capacity of a relatively constrained actor to generate systemic effects through geoeconomic leverage. In doing so, it highlights a broader shift from military-centric conceptions of power toward forms of influence embedded in networks of energy, trade, and supply chains.
This is not merely a redistribution of power, but a redefinition of how power operates. At the systemic level, the war accelerates the erosion of the post-Cold War order, reinforcing tendencies toward fragmentation, parallel economic arrangements, and multipolar competition. Iran’s potential re-emergence as a global actor should therefore be seen less as an isolated outcome than as a manifestation of these deeper structural changes. In this sense, the strategic significance of the war lies in its unintended consequences: it exposes the limits of coercive hegemony while simultaneously amplifying the importance of those actors positioned to exploit the vulnerabilities of an interconnected world.
by Gamini Keerawella ✍️
Features
The dawn of smart help for little ones
How Artificial Intelligence is breaking barriers in Autism Diagnosis and Care
For any parent, the early years are a most valuable countdown of “firsts” of his or her precious child: the first step, the first clear word, the first beautiful smile, and quite a few other firsts as well. Yet for all that, for some families, that joy is overshadowed by a growing, quiet, but disturbing intuition that something is even a little bit different. Perhaps a child is not responding to his or her name, or the little one seems to be more interested in the spinning wheels of a toy than a game of peek-a-boo, or even avoids normal social responses.
In many countries, especially in the developing world, the road from that first “gut feeling” that there is something wrong, to a formal diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) is often a long and exhausting journey. While doctors can often identify autism in children as young as 12 to 18 months, the average age of diagnosis in our communities still hovers around four years. In these critical years, when a child’s brain is most like a machine ready to learn and adapt, time is of the essence and is the most valuable resource a family has.
Today, a new “algorithmic dawn” is offering a shortcut to really cut that delay. Artificial Intelligence (AI), the very same smart technology that helps us navigate traffic, suggest a new song, or help people with ChatGPT, is moving out of the lab and into the children’s nursery. By acting as a digital “magnifying glass”, specifically designed AI tools can now spot subtle patterns in a child’s gaze, some little quirks in the rhythm of their babbling, or the way they move, often much faster than the human eye can. Then the machine can issue a warning signal and indicate that further action and a proper evaluation are necessary. This is most certainly not about replacing the brain, the heart and the expertise of a paediatrician; it is about providing “Smart Help” that can be accessed from a smartphone in a family living room. For millions of “little ones on the spectrum”, most notably in the developing world, this technology is turning a journey once defined by waiting, uncertainty and even tears, into one of proactive care and even brighter horizons. The time gained is most certainly a very valuable window of opportunity.
What is the “Spectrum,” and Why Does Time Matter?
Autism is described as a “spectrum” because it affects many children somewhat differently and to varying degrees. Some children may have advanced technical skills but struggle to hold a conversation; others may be non-verbal or have intense sensory sensitivities. It can be very mild or very severe, and perhaps everywhere in between as well.
The common thread is that the brain develops differently in these affected children. This is why Early Intervention is the gold-standard goal. During the toddler years, a child’s brain is incredibly “plastic”, meaning that it is a highly adaptable and ready to learn type of organ. Starting therapy and management strategies during this valuable period of opportunity can fundamentally change a child’s future life path.
The problem, to a certain extent, is that traditional diagnosis of ASD is a slow, manual process. It requires intensively trained experts to watch a child play for hours and fill out complex checklists. In many countries, including Sri Lanka, where there is a massive shortage of these highly qualified specialists, the waiting list for a consultation alone can take months or even years. These doyens are rather thin on the ground and even when available, are heavily overworked.
Enter the AI Revolution: Seeing the Unseen
AI certainly does NOT replace doctors, but it acts like a high-powered magnifying glass. By using “Machine Learning”, computers can analyse massive amounts of data to find tiny patterns that the human eye might miss. Here is how it is changing the game:
1. Tracking Gaze and Smiles
One of the earliest signs of autism is how a child looks at the world. AI “Computer Vision” can analyse a simple video of a child playing. It can track exactly where the child is looking. Does the child look at a person’s eyes when they speak, or are they drawn to the spinning wheels of a toy in the corner? AI can quantify these “social attention” patterns in seconds and add them to a cache of things that ring warning bells.
2. The Sound of a Voice
Did you know that the “music” of a child’s speech can hold clues? AI can listen to the pitch and rhythm (called prosody) of a child’s voice. Children on the spectrum sometimes have a “flat” or monotonic way of speaking. AI algorithms can measure these vocal biomarkers with incredible precision, helping to flag concerns long before a child is old enough for a full conversation.
3. Movement and Play
Repetitive behaviour, like hand-flapping or rocking, are core traits of ASD. Sensors in smartphones or simple video analysis can now categorise these movements objectively. Instead of a parent trying to describe how often a behaviour happens, the application or ‘app’ provides a clear, data-driven report for the doctor.
Innovation at Home: India’s Digital Solutions
The most exciting part of this technology is that it does not require a million-dollar lab. In India, where smartphone use is booming, several “homegrown” apps are bringing specialist-level screening to rural and urban homes alike.
Apps like CogniAble, which give parents a step-by-step intervention plan based on the child’s specific needs, or START, a tablet-based tool used by local health workers in areas like Delhi slums to spot risks via simple games, or LEEZA.APP, which offers free AI screening to remove the “money barrier” that keeps many families from seeking help, or AutismBASICS, which provides thousands of activities and a milestone tracker to help parents manage daily therapy at home, are just a few of the programs in use at present. These tools are “democratising” healthcare. A mother in a remote village with a basic smartphone can now access the same level of screening logic that was once only available in a major city hospital.
Beyond the Diagnosis: A Robot Tutor?
The role of AI does not stop once a diagnosis is made. It is also becoming a tireless “co-therapist.”
For many children with autism, the human world can be unpredictable and overwhelming. AI-powered “Social Robots” or interactive apps provide a safe, predictable environment. These “Robo-Therapists” do not get tired, they do not get frustrated, and they can repeat a social lesson even 100 times until the child feels comfortable.
Furthermore, for children who are nonverbal, AI-powered communication apps serve as a “voice”. These apps use smart technology to predict what a child wants to say, allowing and facilitating them to express their needs and feelings to their parents, even for the very first time.
The Human Element: Proceed with Care
As bright as this dawn is, experts warn that we must move forward carefully and most intelligently.
= Privacy: Because these apps collect sensitive videos and data about children, keeping that information secure is a top priority.
= Cultural Differences: An AI trained on children in the US or Europe might not perfectly understand a child in Sri Lanka. We need “diverse local data” to ensure the algorithms understand our local languages, gestures, and social norms. Many of these programs need to be home-grown or baked at home in Sri Lanka.
= The Human Touch: Most importantly, we need to always remember that AI is a tool, not a replacement. A computer can spot a pattern, but it cannot give a hug, provide emotional support to a struggling parent, or celebrate a breakthrough with the same joy as a human therapist.
A Brighter Future
We are moving toward a world where “waiting and seeing” is no longer, and quite definitely, not the only option for parents. By combining the heart of a parent and the expertise of a doctor with the speed of an algorithm, we can ensure that no child is left behind because of where they live or how much money they have.
The “Algorithmic Dawn” is not just about code and data. It is about giving every child the best possible start in life. It is the main principle on which Hippocrates, the Father of Medicine, all those centuries ago, based all his postulations on how physicians should work.
The “Red Flag” Checklist: 18 to 24 Months
The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends screening all children at 18 and 24 months. If you notice several of these signs, it is time to use an AI screening app or consult your paediatrician.
Communication and Social Cues
= The Name Test: Does your child consistently fail to turn around or look at you when you call his or her name?
= The Pointing Test: By 18 months, most toddlers point at things they want (like a biscuit) or things they find interesting (like a dog). Is your child using your hand as a “tool” to get things instead of pointing?
= The Eye Contact Test: Does your child avoid looking at your face during social interactions or during play or when being fed?
= The Shared Smile: Does your child rarely smile back when you smile at him or her?
Behaviour and Play
= The Toy Test: Does your child play with toys in “unusual” ways? (e.g., instead of rolling a car, they spend 20 minutes just spinning one wheel or lining them up in a perfect, rigid line).
= The Routine Rule: Do they have an extreme “meltdown” over tiny changes, like taking a different route to the park or using a different coloured cup?
= Repetitive Motions: Do you notice frequent hand-flapping, rocking, or spinning in circles, especially when they are excited or upset?
The “Golden Rule” of Regression
Finally, an extremely important rule for concerned parents to follow.
If your little one had words (like “Mama” or “Dada” or “Amma” or “Thaththa” or Thaii/Amma or Appa) or social skills (like waving “Bye-Bye”) and a beautiful social smile etc, and then SUDDENLY STOPS USING THEM, that could be a most significant red flag. In such situations, the standard advice would be: Please consult a doctor immediately.
by Dr B. J. C. Perera
MBBS(Cey), DCH(Cey), DCH(Eng), MD(Paediatrics),
MRCP(UK), FRCP(Edin), FRCP(Lond), FRCPCH(UK),
FSLCPaed, FCCP, Hony. FRCPCH(UK), Hony. FCGP(SL)
Specialist Consultant Paediatrician and Honorary Senior Fellow,
Postgraduate Institute of Medicine, University of Colombo, Sri Lanka.
Features
Governance, growth and our regional moment:Why Sri Lanka must choose wisely
The recent disclosure of a substantial internal fraud at National Development Bank has understandably unsettled the financial community. What began as a relatively contained incident has since been revised upwards, revealing a scheme that operated over an extended period within a specific operational area. To their credit, both the bank and the Central Bank of Sri Lanka responded with speed. Staff were suspended, arrests followed, an independent forensic review was commissioned, and clear assurances were given that customer funds remained secure. The institution’s capital and liquidity positions continue to meet regulatory requirements, and day to day operations have not been disrupted.
Yet it would be a mistake to view this as an isolated operational error at a single respected institution. When a fraud of this magnitude, equivalent to more than a year’s profit for the bank, emerges within one of our most established listed companies, the implications extend well beyond the banking sector. It prompts a necessary and uncomfortable question. Are we truly strengthening the foundations of our economy so that every part of our society can operate with the integrity and confidence that sustainable progress demands?
Banking sits at the heart of any modern economy. It channels savings into investment, supports enterprise, and underpins household security. When even a leading institution reveals weaknesses in internal controls, risk oversight or governance culture, the signal to international observers is difficult to ignore. It suggests that the financial system upon which growth depends may not yet possess the resilience we aspire to project. If institutions that have undergone significant reform since 2022 can still experience such failures, what assurance can investors reasonably expect in other sectors of our economy? At a time when Sri Lanka needs to demonstrate strength and reliability, perceptions of fragility carry a heavy cost.
This matters profoundly because a genuine window of opportunity is now opening. Geopolitical shifts in the Middle East and beyond are prompting global investors and entrepreneurs to seek stable, well governed destinations for capital and talent. Sri Lanka possesses distinct advantages. Our geographical position offers natural connectivity. We have invested in critical infrastructure, including two major ports, international airports and strategic energy reserves. In an era where businesses prioritise rule of law, institutional predictability and sound fundamentals, our potential alignment with these criteria is significant. However, high profile governance failures at this precise moment risk undermining that narrative before it can gain meaningful traction.
The stakes are equally significant for initiatives such as the Port City Colombo. With substantial projects now approved, foreign investment commitments secured and early construction underway, this endeavour is moving from concept to delivery. Yet persistent concerns about governance standards in our established companies can act as a drag on investor sentiment. The confidence required to attract high value international tenants and long- term capital depends not only on physical infrastructure but on the perceived strength of our institutions and the consistency of our regulatory environment.
For decades, Sri Lanka has experienced growth averaging around four to five per cent per year. While this is not insignificant, it falls short of our potential, particularly when measured against the progress of our regional neighbours. India, for example, has sustained growth at roughly twice our rate for more than twenty years, driven by consistent policy execution and strengthening institutional credibility. Our own trajectory has been held back not by a lack of ideas or ambition, but by recurring shortcomings in how our major institutions are governed and held to account. The result is a cycle of unrealised potential, where promising openings are not fully converted into lasting advancement.
The current situation, though challenging, can serve as a catalyst for meaningful change. Boards of listed companies must move beyond procedural compliance to foster a genuine culture of ethical leadership, proactive risk management and zero tolerance for control failures. Regulators have an opportunity to undertake a comprehensive review of fraud prevention frameworks, whistle-blower protections and monitoring standards across the financial sector, with lessons applied to other key industries. Greater transparency in reporting material incidents and more timely forensic follow through will help rebuild trust with both domestic and international stakeholders.
Crucially, the government must tread carefully as it responds. Short term fixes or reactive measures may address immediate concerns but will not deliver the enduring stability that investors seek. What is required is a coherent long-term strategy that balances the imperative for rapid economic development with the equally vital need to conserve our natural environment and strengthen regional cooperation. Our neighbours in South Asia and Southeast Asia offer not only markets for trade and investment but also partners in shared challenges such as climate resilience, sustainable infrastructure and digital connectivity. By deepening these relationships through practical collaboration, Sri Lanka can position itself as a reliable and forward-looking partner in a dynamic region.
Sri Lanka stands at a pivotal moment. Global realignments are creating rare opportunities for capital inflows, technology transfer and new economic partnerships. Yet these opportunities will flow most readily to nations that demonstrate they can protect investor interests, uphold the rule of law and operate with predictability and transparency. If we allow governance weaknesses in our flagship institutions to persist, we risk once again watching potential pass us by.
This is a defining moment, and our response must be equally purposeful. We can treat the recent events as an unfortunate but isolated incident and return to established patterns. Or we can seize this moment as a timely reminder to strengthen every pillar of our economy, with particular attention to environmental stewardship and regional collaboration. Only by getting our house in order, with patience, consistency and a clear-eyed commitment to long term goals, can we convert today’s challenges into tomorrow’s competitive advantage. The path to sustained prosperity demands nothing less.
by Professor Chanaka Jayawardhena
Professor of Marketing
University of Surrey
Chanaka.j@gmail.com
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