Features
Reflecting on Mahinda
“These things happened. They were glorious and they changed the world… and then we f***** up the endgame.” (Tom Hanks, “Charlie Wilson’s War”)
The day the war ended, I wasn’t quite 17. Our old Isuzu Gemini didn’t have an onboard radio, so on the way home from the exam hall – I had sat for my O Levels – we made do with a portable one. The news was everywhere: over the airwaves and on the streets. People were elated, overjoyed: mountains of kiribath and piles of lunumiris, hordes of youngsters waving one flag after another, greeted us all the way from Wellawatte to Boralesgamuwa. As Wordsworth would have put it, bliss was it to have been alive then, heaven to have been young. Nothing seemed subdued in the air, and nothing could be. For me and pretty much everyone else, Sri Lanka had won. Everything else came later.
My generation was among the last to see the war through to its end, to have been alive to the dangers and the torments that accompanied it from the beginning. We had witnessed successive peace talks, a ceasefire agreement, even a post-tsunami “deal” with the other side. Nothing worked.
When we moved from my old home town to where I am now, politics had reduced to a battle between those who wanted peace and those who wanted war. Among such obtuse divisions shades of grey did not exist: either you voted for the peaceniks – the UNP – or you threw in your lot with the nationalists – the SLFP. I can’t remember the day the latter won the election in 2004, but I do remember the sense of elation among my family: Mahinda Rajapaksa, the populist candidate, had clinched the presidency, defeating the appeasers. Five years later he would help us end the war.
Mahinda was a hero to my family – to an extent to me also – and, for a brief moment right after the war ended, even to those who disliked him. At that moment we defined our enemy, not in crude ethnic terms, but in terms of a ruthless terrorist outfit that preached only fanaticism. We never defined another by what set us apart; only by what brought us together. Call it sentimental nostalgia, but I now remember May 2009 as one of the few times in our recent history from which we could go forward, as one. Leading us all ahead there was Mahinda. How could you dislike the guy?
I never understood the halo many of us painted around him later on. But I understand why they did what they did, turning Mahinda into some kind of deliverer. The man was in, and of, his time in a way none of his predecessors were – barring one. The exception was Ranasinghe Premadasa, who, it must be said, hailed from an altogether more subaltern, and thus depressed, background.
Like Premadasa, Mahinda was receptive to what people expected of him: not as a demagogue and a nationalist, but as a populist and a patriot. Today these words have become anathema to left-liberals and neoliberals. But then they are not bereft of meaning; only leaders conversant with the politics of people, as opposed to the politics of power, can make the people matter and the people count. In this Mahinda may have been, at one level, the successor of Premadasa. No wonder Dayan Jayatilleka, a man who obviously knows what he’s writing, and more importantly what he’s not writing, wrote of both as the two “most courageous, heroic, leaders we elected in my lifetime.”
So the halo a lot of those who supported him painted on him wasn’t entirely unwarranted. And yet – and this is something that needs to be emphasised fairly and squarely – what was so refreshing about Mahinda Rajapaksa wasn’t so much his appeal to a single constituency as his appeal was to every constituency. Put in other words, in the aftermath of the war, he appeared less a narrow nationalist than a pluralist patriot: the sort before whom everyone could become one.
In his declaration about there being no Sinhalese and Tamils, but all being Sri Lankans – the boldest made by a popular president here – lay a philosophy and a way of doing politics that could get the country ahead. When he became the first president to make it a point to speak in Tamil – which no other president no matter how liberal or popular had tried to do – he thus went as far as anyone in his office had to reach out. I often wonder whether such gestures were recognised for what they were, and whether those for whom they were meant grasped their full significance.
Not that it matters now. But it mattered then. The excitement and the exhilaration of those statements, decisions, and gestures, which I doubt were lost on us, were lost on those who could have responded. Instead of acceptance, he and his government got intransigence, a persistent refusal to endorse such gestures. I fail to understand why we crowned him like we did, but I also fail to understand why such sentiments never got reciprocated. Why did they go unnoticed, really?
Tempting as it would be to view it so, the lack of a proper response to these gestures and sentiments was not the only, or even the main, reason for his government’s downfall. Thirty years of war do not end without victors claiming their share of the spoils from the losers. Although the war went on, and continued to be fought, without the victor/vanquished dichotomy, after it ended that dichotomy crept up, doubly so because of a resurgence of Sinhala ultra-nationalism on the one hand, and the perceived defeat of its competitor – Tamil ultra-nationalism – on the other, towards the end of the decade. Yet the defeat of the latter meant that Sinhala ultra-nationalism could no longer thrive. In the absence of an enemy, paraphrasing Voltaire, we need to invent one. Four years later the ultra-nationalists invented one in Alutgama. That fight continues.
At the outset, then, a fatal rupture developed between the imperatives of multi-ethnic populism and the convulsions of mono-ethnic ultra-nationalism. Against that backdrop Mahinda’s government found itself forced to take sides. Sri Lanka witnessed three moments in which it faced a choice between an inclusive, progressive path and a divisive, reactionary one: 1948, 1970, and 2009. In 1948 the choice was made in favour of a compradore bourgeoisie that doubled down as a dependent elite, and in 1970 it was made in favour of a state-led reformist programme that, while laudable, got bogged down in the contradictions of the times in which it came to be enacted. What road would 2009 take?
It’s perhaps the biggest tragedy of my time, my generation, and the generations which followed mine, that the choice made was not the choice that should have been made. Mahinda’s charisma did not, and does not, stem from his pandering to one constituency: his populism, nurtured more by the left than by the right, extended to everyone. As multi-class as it was multi-ethnic, it’s the sort of charisma very few leaders have been endowed with. A Muslim friend from Hambantota – Rajapaksa territory – put that in perspective best: “He was of the South, but not just of the Sinhalese.”
So we know what road we should have taken, just as we know what road we ended up taking. What compelled him to abandon the first road and take the other, whether the forces that prevailed on him to do so profited by their insularity, and how we might have fared had we not listened to those forces, are questions I can’t really answer. All I know was that we had a golden opportunity, the best we ever had and the best we ever got, to forge a new future. The nationalism we should have made use of then should have been more pluralist than exclusivist, more accommodating than assertive. Yet trapped on every front, the then administration gave in to the chauvinists.
My critique of Sinhala ultra-nationalism today has always been that it differs little from the forces of neoliberalism it so strongly opposes: mired in its contradictions, it thrives on internal divisions while offering the feeblest resistance to external pressures. Andre Gunder Frank was not wide off the mark when he observed that “national” (or nationalist) capitalism was no better than its compradore variety. Amidst the resurgence of ultra-nationalism we are witnessing today, a contradiction has hence sprung up between the demonisation of the ethnic Other and an acceptance of an economic model which does not differ, or depart, radically from the sort championed by the previous regime.
We could have changed all this. Yet we did not. I still don’t know why. In Mahinda Rajapaksa we got the kind of deliverer the country was in need of: not a mythical Diyasen Kumara, but a popular unifier nurtured by the left. Today the revival of the nationalist right within not just the government, but also sections of the Opposition, threatens to eliminate everything we achieved in 2009, and everything we could have achieved in the years which followed. That is our tragedy, and the tragedy of all those who helped conclude the war. What pains me is that it did not have to be this way.
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
-
Features7 days agoRanjith Siyambalapitiya turns custodian of a rare living collection
-
News7 days agoGlobal ‘Walk for Peace’ to be held in Lanka
-
News5 days agoLankan-origin actress Subashini found dead in India
-
News3 days agoAG: Coal procurement full of irregularities
-
Business2 days agoIsraeli attack on Lebanon triggers local stock market volatility
-
Features7 days agoBeyond the Blue Skies: A Tribute to Captain Elmo Jayawardena
-
Features7 days agoAspects of Ceylon/Sri Lanka Foreign Relations – 1948 to 1976
-
Business3 days agoHayleys Mobility introduces Premium OMODA C9 PHEV
