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Sir John takes over, cabinet meeting at N’Eliya and the EL Senanayake election case

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Standing L to R – B. P. Peiris, C. W. W. Kannangara, Sir Kanthiah Valthiyanathan, Montague Jayawickrama, M. D. H. Jayawardene, E. B. Wickramanayake, N. H. Keerthiratne, Shirley Corea Seated L to R - M. D. Banda, A. Ratnayake, J. R Jayawardene, Sir John Kotelawala, E. A. Nugawela, Dr M. C. M. Kaleel, P.B. Bulankulame Dissawa

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

The first meeting of the new Cabinet placed on record its appreciation of the services rendered to the country by Mr Dudley Senanayake. Sir Kanthiah Vaithianathan, who had resigned his post as Permanent Secretary to the Ministry of Defence and External Affairs, took over the Portfolio of Housing and Social Services.

Sir John was spending a few days in December 1953 at his official residence, The Lodge, Nuwara Eliya. More out of mischief than on grounds of urgency, he summoned the Cabinet to meet at The Lodge on December 31. On the New Year Day following, A. G. Ranasinha, the Secretary, was to receive the honour of knighthood, and I, the O.B.E., and we found the arrangement very inconvenient, but had to obey orders and attend the meeting.

We accordingly travelled to Nanu Oya by the night train on the 30th with office peons and Cabinet security boxes. On reaching our destination early next morning at about six, we found Police cars waiting for us on Sir John’s instructions. On our reaching The Lodge, the cook, Periasamy, was there to greet us, again on Sir John’s orders, with egg hoppers and fish curry, which was most welcome. Sir John was asleep but had given his orders with military precision.

We soon got ready and the meeting started rather early at about 9 a.m. At 11 a.m. drinks were served. Every possible brand of liquor was laid out on a side table, and we were asked to help ourselves. At 1 p.m. there was a short adjournment for lunch, preceded by a few more drinks. An excellent lunch, of mulligatawny, yellow rice and chicken curry was provided by the cook. The meeting terminated early afternoon and we had to while away the time till 5 p.m., when Lord Soulbury had invited us to tea.

Some Ministers preferred to walk on the well-trimmed lawns. Sir John, Bulankulame Dissawa, M. D. Banda, and I were in the sitting room, warming ourselves by the fire when Sir John asked me, “I say, Peiris, aren’t you getting something tomorrow?” The recommendation for the honour is made by the Prime Minister, but the letter inquiring whether I would accept the honour comes from Queen’s House marked ‘Top Secret’.

I therefore replied “I know nothing about it, Sir”, and Sir John told the other Ministers “Look at this chap; I recommend him for the honour and he thinks it is a Cabinet secret and wants to hide it from me. Anyway, I’ll be at your house at 7 p.m. Don’t give lime juice.”

We took the night train back, travelling to Nanu Oya again in Police cars. It was a bit of a rush because the Mayor, Mr Vijayaratnasingham, had a cocktail party in our honour and Ranasinha and I were worried that we would miss our train. Sir John had seen to it that baskets of flowers were put into our cars. True to his word, the Pilot car preceding the Prime Minister’s car turned in at my gate sharp at seven the next evening. He had two whiskeys and was off to be in time at the next place because mine was not the only house of ‘honours’ men he visited that evening.

He was surprised when I asked him in French whether to sing him a French song. He said “Oui, oui, oui” and asked who was going to play. I sat at the piano and, with Sir John standing by me with his glass in his hand, sang a naughty song which Maurice Chevalier used to sing at the Moulin Rouge in Paris in the early thirties, and the words of which no one but Sir John understood. When I was getting to the end of the chorus, he whispered in my ear “Sing the chorus again.” The first line of the chorus was “Dites moi, ma mere, dites moi ma mere pourquoi less chiens daps les rues se months dessous”.

One of the first major questions which the Prime Minister asked his Cabinet to consider was that of bribery and corruption. He was determined, if possible, to stamp this moral stain out of public life. A new law was drafted to be in operation in the first instance for 18 months and to be applicable to public servants only. Charges were to be investigated by the Criminal Investigation Department and the tribunal hearing the charges was to consist of judges or retired judges.

Power was also taken to make the new law applicable, if necessary, to the findings of a Commission appointed to investigate allegations of bribery and corruption against a Senator or Member of Parliament, and it was agreed that any fee or reward paid or given to a Senator or Member of Parliament to appear for any person before a public officer other than a judicial or quasi-judicial officer should be deemed to be a bribe. The Bill was passed into law as Act No. II of 1954, and has been amended more than once to vest additional powers in the Bribery Commissioner.

E. B. Wikramanayake, Q. C. now joined the Cabinet as Minister of Justice. He was a man of few words and did not believe in wasting his time or anyone else’s. In the course of a discussion, he made his point in the fewest possible words.

In December 1953, the Governor-General was informed that Her Majesty the Queen intended to visit Ceylon. The Cabinet considered this communication and agreed that Her Majesty should be invited to open the next Session of Parliament. The Queens’ Speech, which I was asked to make as short as possible, was approved by the Cabinet and an advance copy sent to the Palace.

On the day of Her Majesty’s arrival in Colombo, I found five lines of traffic opposite my house on the Havelock Road moving, from two in the morning, towards the city. The streets were decorated and thronged with people, rich and poor, to welcome the Royal visitors. The weather was more than kind; it was a scorching sun, and the Queen, who rode with His Royal Highness Prince )Philip in an open car had a parasol for protection.

I watched the procession from a vantage point in the Dutch Burgher Union in Bullers Road. Persons were perched on the roofs of the houses opposite. ‘The welcome accorded to the Royal couple was rousing as well as spontaneous. The impression that I had was first, that the welcome was a natural gesture of loyalty, and secondly, that, with our own monarchical background, our people just cannot resist Royalty and the pageantry that is associated with that institution.

I wonder how many persons noticed the Constitutional aspect of the Royal visit. Her Majesty was Queen of Ceylon, and, though not domiciled here, she was temporarily resident in one of Her Dominions. As such, during Her residence here, the person she had appointed to represent Her in the Island, Lord Soulbury, officially ceased to exist. The Governor-General could not have assented to a Bill nor could he have exercised the Royal prerogative of pardon. The office of the Governor-General was, for the time being, in abeyance. That is the reason for Lord Soulbury’s absence at the Opening of Parliament. In effect, he “took himself away” and stayed in the background.

Her Majesty opened the Third Session of the Second Parliament on April 12, 1954, and read Her Speech in English in a clear voice. Naturally, she could not be asked to comply, as Sir Oliver Goonetilleke did a few years later, with the requirements of our Official Language Act. At the next Cabinet meeting Ministers Vaithianathan and Natesan referred to the fact that, at the presentation of the Addresses, the speeches had been made in English and Sinhala but not in Tamil. They stated that this had caused uneasiness among the Tamil community.

I think the two Tamil Ministers, when they used the word “uneasiness”, exercised the utmost restraint in the use of language and refrained, with great dignity, in giving vent, not only to their own feelings, but to the feelings of the entire Tamil community. To make matters worse, the Prime Minister assured the Cabinet that the omission of a Speech in Tamil was accidental and not intentional, and promised to make a public statement to that effect. Really, I ask, to whom was the Prime Minister talking? To two of the intellectual Ministers in his Cabinet; and was he talking with his tongue in his cheek? Incidents like this though quickly forgotten by the Sinhalese, remain long in the memories of the minority communities as utterly insulting and unnecessary pinpricks inflicted on purpose.

On Her birthday, April 21, Her Majesty held an Investiture at Queen’s House at which A. G. Ranasinha was knighted and I was invested with the insignia of the O.B.E. A Throne had been placed on the dais for the Queen but had to be hurriedly removed a few minutes before Her Majesty’s arrival because, in England, it is customary for the Sovereign to stand throughout an Investiture. His Royal Highness stood one foot behind the Queen throughout the ceremony and looked thoroughly bored.

Immediately after the Investiture, a group photograph was taken of Her Majesty and Her Ceylon Cabinet. The seats were all arranged. The Prime Minister would naturally sit on the Queen’s right. Sir Oliver Goonetilleke wanted to sit on Her Majesty’s left but Minister J. R. Jayewardene insisted that the setting should be according to the Order of Precedence and that he should be on the Queen’s left. By his sojourn abroad, Sir Oliver had come down in the Precedence Table and, in that historic photograph, would have had to stand in the second row if one of the Ministers had not fallen ill and his place taken by an acting Minister.

It is for this reason that Sir Oliver is seen seated, not next to the Queen, but in the last chair. Was it not Pope who said that every man has just as much vanity as he wants understanding? When this squabble about seating had been settled, the Aide-de-Camp was informed that the Ministers were ready. Her Majesty arrived and took her seat. She was so dignified that the photographer did not dare to tell Her to smile or put her left foot forward; but a beautiful photograph was the result. At the end of the ceremony, Sir John, on behalf of the Cabinet, presented Her Majesty with a silver tray as a birthday present.

It was at about this time that my daughter Kamala, to the family and friends known as ‘Binkie’, married the man of her choice, Dr Cecil D. Chelliah, a specialist in the diseases of the chest. As I said before, her Kundasale training had turned out a plain living, high thinking, sensible and efficient woman. D. S. Senanayake was right in his forecast about the girls turned out at Kundasale. The doctor had music in him, and it was music that brought the couple together. In view of this strong community of interests, which was a firmer basis for sound marriage than good looks, a sports car or a tweed suit, my wife and I readily gave our consent.

He was a Tamil and a Christian; but I had no difficulty in coming to a decision as my education had been completely free of any racial or religious bias and hypocrisy. They have two very musically-minded children, Ranjan and Priyantha, whom I prefer to call “Mr Jones” and “Mr Shaw” respectively. Grandpa has had some lovely musical evenings in his retirement with son-in-law, daughter, Jones and Shaw, showing their prowess, jointly and severally, at their different instruments.

Ministers, like women, are entitled to change their minds and their opinions, but on one thing Sir John was firm and never once wavered. He laid it down that, so long as he was in charge of administration of this country, no person would be employed in the public service who was a communist or who belonged to a revolutionary party.

A rather unusual Bill was now considered and later passed into law. The Government Parliamentary Group had passed a resolution regarding the delimitation of electoral districts for Parliamentary elections. Under the first Delimitation Commission, the number of electoral districts for the Island sent ninety-five members to the House of Representatives. Together with the six Appointed members, the total membership of the House was one hundred and one.

A new Commission had been appointed, as required by the Consti tution. Following the 1953 census, which gave the Ceylon population as 8,098,637, giving approximately every 75,000 of the popultion a seat as laid down in the Constitution, the total membership the House, including the Appointed members, would have been of 139. There had been considerable public opinion that the Constitution should be amended so as to limit the number of members.

It was suggested that the total number of sea should be about 108, and it was proposed create three of four additional special seats for Indians and Pakistanis. Sir John accordingly proposed to the Cabinet that the scheme’ adopted. If adopted, it involved an amendment to the Constitution which would require a two-thirds majority in the House of Representatives to pass it into law. The Bill which he submitted was to in force for 10 years and would enable the Government to discharge its obligations under the Indo-Ceylon pact. The proposed legisla- tion would have conferred on persons registered as Citizens of Ceylon under the Indian and Pakistani Residents (Citizenship) Act, a privilege which was not conferred on persons of other communities, namely, separate parliamentary representation for 10 years.

It would also have made persons so registered as Citizens of Ceylon, liable to a disability to which persons of other communities were not made liable, namely, the exclusion of their names for 10 years from the general parliamentary register of elections. The Bill fixed the to number of members of the House of Representatives for all time at 108. The Ceylon Constitution (Amendment) 1 was passed in 1954, limiting the membership of the House. An Act for the creation of a special Indian and Pakistani Electorate was a passed the same year. Nothing came of either of these Acts. The question whether the Acts were valid under section 29 of the Constitution is now academic as both Acts were repealed in 1959.

Soon thereafter, followed another unusual piece of legislation. E. L. Senanayake was elected Member for Kandy in the House of Rep resentatives, but was unseated on an election petition, and the Prime Minister made the following statement in the House of Representatives on February 5, 1954:

“I wish to inform the House that the Member for Kandy has been granted leave to appeal to the Privy Council from the decision of the Supreme Court of Ceylon. The following telegram has been sent by the Crown Solicitors:

“Senanayake special leave granted reserving leave to Attorney-General or respondent to challenge jurisdiction on hearing of appeal stop Board represented appeal should be heard as soon as possible stop Meanwhile most undesirable that certificate should be published or other steps taken consequent upon the declaration before appeal.”

The Government proposed to take steps to avoid unnecessary legal complications in the event of the appeal of the member for Kandy being allowed by the Privy Council. They intended to introduce legislation suspending an Order of the Supreme Court under the Ceylon (Parliamentary Election) Order in Council, pending an appeal to the Privy Council. Meanwhile, the Governor-General had been advised that he should withhold action under the Order in Council, pending the introduction of the Bill. There is no provision of law under which His Excellency is empowered to suspend the steps to be taken under the Order in Council. He was required by law to fix a date for the by-election.

Draft legislation was submitted designed to meet Senanayake’s case. The Bill proposed that where an appeal is taken to the Privy Council, the operation of an Order of the Supreme Court under the Elections Order in Council should be suspended till the decision of the Privy Council in that behalf is known. The legislation was to have retrospective effect to cover the Supreme Court judgment in the Senanayake case.

On advice, the Governor-General suspended action under the Order in Council and did not authorize the holding of a by-election. His action was to be legalized by the proposed legislation. He was to be indemnified against all civil and criminal liability ‘in respect of the noncompliance of the provisions of the Order in Council which required him to order the holding of a fresh election.

Senanayake lost his appeal in the Privy Council and continued to remain out of Parliament. This sort of ad hoc legislation to suit particular persons in most unfortunate. Retrospective legislation is particularly obnoxious and is viewed by the courts with suspicion, but the courts are bound by the laws passed by Parliament.



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Trump’s Venezuela gamble: Why markets yawned while the world order trembled

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The world’s most powerful military swoops into Venezuela, in the dead of night, captures a sitting President, and spirits him away to face drug trafficking charges in New York. The entire operation, complete with at least 40 casualties, was announced by President Trump as ‘extraordinary’ and ‘brilliant.’ You’d think global financial markets would panic. Oil prices would spike. Stock markets would crash. Instead, something strange happened: almost nothing.

Oil prices barely budged, rising less than 2% before settling back. Stock markets actually rallied. The US dollar remained steady. It was as if the world’s financial markets collectively shrugged at what might be the most brazen American military intervention since the 1989 invasion of Panama.

But beneath this calm surface, something far more significant is unfolding, a fundamental reshaping of global power dynamics that could define the next several decades. The story of Trump’s Venezuela intervention isn’t really about Venezuela at all. It’s about oil, money, China, and the slow-motion collapse of the international order we’ve lived under since World War II. (Figure 1)

The Oil Paradox

Venezuela sits on the world’s largest proven oil reserves, more than Saudi Arabia, more than Russia. We’re talking about 303 billion barrels. This should be one of the wealthiest nations on Earth. Instead, it’s an economic catastrophe. Venezuela’s oil production has collapsed from 3.5 million barrels per day in the late 1990s to less than one million today, barely 1% of global supply (Figure 1). Years of corruption, mismanagement, and US sanctions have turned treasure into rubble. The infrastructure is so degraded that even if you handed the country to ExxonMobil tomorrow, it would take a decade and hundreds of billions of dollars to fix.

This explains why oil markets barely reacted. Traders looked at Venezuela’s production numbers and basically said: “What’s there to disrupt?” Meanwhile, the world is drowning in oil. The global market has a surplus of nearly four million barrels per day. American production alone hit record levels above 13.8 million barrels daily. Venezuela’s contribution simply doesn’t move the needle anymore (Figure 1).

But here’s where it gets interesting. Trump isn’t just removing a dictator. He’s explicitly taking control of Venezuela’s oil. In his own words, the country will “turn over” 30 to 50 million barrels, with proceeds controlled by him personally “to ensure it is used to benefit the people of Venezuela and the United States.” American oil companies, he promised, would “spend billions of dollars” to rebuild the infrastructure.

This isn’t subtle. One energy policy expert put it bluntly: “Trump’s focus on Venezuelan oil grants credence to those who argue that US foreign policy has always been about resource extraction.”

The Real Winners: Defence and Energy

While oil markets stayed calm, defence stocks went wild. BAE Systems jumped 4.4%, Germany’s Rheinmetall surged 6.1%. These companies see what others might miss, this isn’t a one-off. If Trump launches military operations to remove leaders he doesn’t like, there will be more.

Energy stocks told a similar story. Chevron, the only U.S. oil major currently authorised to operate in Venezuela, surged 10% in pre-market trading. ExxonMobil, ConocoPhillips, and oil services companies posted solid gains. Investors are betting on lucrative reconstruction contracts. Think Iraq after 2003, but potentially bigger.

The catch? History suggests they might be overly optimistic. Iraq’s oil sector was supposed to bounce right back after Saddam Hussein fell. Twenty years later, it still hasn’t reached its potential. Afghanistan received hundreds of billions in reconstruction spending, most of which disappeared. Venezuela shares the same warning signs: destroyed infrastructure, unclear property rights, volatile security, and deep social divisions.

China’s Venezuela Problem

Here’s where the story gets geopolitically explosive. China has loaned Venezuela over $60 billion, since 2007, making Venezuela China’s biggest debtor in Latin America. How was Venezuela supposed to pay this back? With oil. About 80% of Venezuelan oil exports were going to China, often at discounted rates, to service this debt.

Now Trump controls those oil flows. Venezuelan oil will now go “through legitimate and authorised channels consistent with US law.” Translation: China’s oil supply just got cut off, and good luck getting repaid on those $60 billion in loans.

This isn’t just about one country’s debt. It’s a demonstration of American power that China cannot match. Despite decades of economic investment and diplomatic support, China couldn’t prevent the United States from taking over. For other countries considering Chinese loans and partnerships, the lesson is clear: when push comes to shove, Beijing can’t protect you from Washington.

But there’s a darker flip side. Every time the United States weaponizes the dollar system, using control over oil sales, bank transactions, and trade flows as a weapon, it gives countries like China more reason to build alternatives. China has been developing its own international payment system for years. Each American strong-arm tactic makes that project look smarter to countries that fear they might be next.

The Rules Are for Little People

Perhaps the most significant aspect of this episode isn’t economic, it’s legal and political. The United States launched a military operation, captured a President, and announced it would “run” that country indefinitely. There was no United Nations authorisation. No congressional vote. No meaningful consultation with allies.

The UK’s Prime Minister emphasised “international law” while waiting for details. European leaders expressed discomfort. Latin American countries split along ideological lines, with Colombia’s President comparing Trump to Hitler. But nobody actually did anything. Russia and China condemned the action as illegal but couldn’t, or wouldn’t, help. The UN Security Council didn’t even meet, because everyone knows the US would just veto any resolution.

This is what scholars call the erosion of the “rules-based international order.” For decades after World War II, there was at least a pretense that international law mattered, that sovereignty meant something. Powerful nations bent those rules when convenient, but they tried to maintain appearances.

Trump isn’t even pretending. And that creates a problem: if the United States doesn’t follow international law, why should Russia in Ukraine? Why should China regarding Taiwan? Why should anyone?

What About the Venezuelan People?

Lost in all the analysis are the actual people of Venezuela. They’ve suffered immensely. Inflation is 682%, the highest in the world. Nearly eight million Venezuelans have fled. Those who remain often work multiple jobs just to survive, and their cupboards are still bare. The monthly minimum wage is literally 40 cents.

Many Venezuelans welcomed Maduro’s removal. He was a brutal dictator whose catastrophic policies destroyed the country. But they’re deeply uncertain about what comes next. As one Caracas resident put it: “What we don’t know is whether the change is for better or for worse. We’re in a state of uncertainty.”

Trump’s explicit focus on oil control, his decision to work with Maduro’s own Vice President, rather than democratic opposition leaders, and his promise that American companies will “spend billions”, all of this raises uncomfortable questions. Is this about helping Venezuelans, or helping American oil companies?

The Bigger Picture

Financial markets reacted calmly because the immediate economic impacts are limited. Venezuela’s oil production is already tiny. The country’s bonds were already in default. The direct market effects are manageable. But markets might miss the forest for the trees.

This intervention represents something bigger: a fundamental shift in how powerful nations behave. The post-Cold War era, with its optimistic talk of international cooperation and rules-based order, was definitively over. We’re entering a new age of imperial power politics.

In this new world, military force is back on the table. Economic leverage will be used more aggressively. Alliance relationships will become more transactional. Countries will increasingly have to choose sides between competing power blocs, because the middle ground is disappearing.

The United States might win in the short term, seizing control of Venezuela’s oil, demonstrating military reach, showing China the limits of its influence. But the long-term consequences remain uncertain. Every country watching is drawing conclusions about what it means for them. Some will decide they need to align more closely with Washington to stay safe. Others will conclude they need to build alternatives to American-dominated systems to stay independent.

History will judge whether Trump’s Venezuela gambit was brilliant strategy or reckless overreach. What we can say now is that the comfortable assumptions of the past three decades, that might not be right, that international law matters, that economic interdependence prevents conflict, no longer hold.

Financial markets may have yawned at Venezuela. But they might want to wake up. The world just changed, and the bill for that change hasn’t come due yet. When it does, it won’t be measured in oil barrels or bond prices. It will be measured in the kind of world we all have to live in, and whether it’s more stable and prosperous, or more dangerous and divided.

That’s a question worth losing sleep over.

(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe. The views and opinions expressed in this article are personal.)

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Living among psychopaths

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Bob (not his real name) who worked in a large business organisation was full of new ideas. He went out of his way to help his colleagues in difficulties. His work attracted the attention of his superiors and they gave him a free hand to do his work. After some time, Bob started harassing his female colleagues. He used to knock against them in order to kick up a row. Soon he became a nuisance to the entire staff. When the female colleagues made a complaint to the management a disciplinary inquiry was conducted. Bob put up a weak defence saying that he had no intention to cause any harm to the females on the staff. However, he was found guilty of harassing the female colleagues. Accordingly his services were terminated.

Those who conducted the disciplinary inquiry concluded that Bob was a psychopath. According to psychologists, a psychopath is a person who has a serious and permanent mental illness that makes him behave in a violent or criminal way. Psychologists believe that one per cent of the people are psychopaths who have no conscience. You may have come across such people in films and novels. The film The Silence of the Lambs portrayed a serial killer who enjoyed tormenting his innocent victims. Apart from such fictional characters, there are many psychopaths in big and small organisations and in society as well. In a reported case Dr Ahmad Suradji admitted to killing more than 40 innocent women and girls. There is something fascinating and also chilling about such people.

People without a conscience are not a new breed. Even ancient Greek philosophers spoke of ‘men without moral reason.’ Later medical professionals said people without conscience were suffering from moral insanity. However, all serial killers and rapists are not psychopaths. Sometimes a man would kill another person under grave and sudden provocation. If you see your wife sleeping with another man, you will kill one or both of them. A world-renowned psychopathy authority Dr Robert Hare says, “Psychopaths can be found everywhere in society.” He developed a method to define and diagnose psychopathy. Today it is used as the international gold standard for the assessment of psychopathy.

No conscience

According to modern research, even normal people are likely to commit murder or rape in certain circumstances. However, unlike normal people, psychopaths have no conscience when they commit serious crimes. In fact, they tend to enjoy such brutal activities. There is no general consensus whether there are degrees of psychopathy. According to Harvard University Professor Martha Stout, conscience is like a left arm, either you have one or you don’t. Anyway psychopathy may exist in degrees varying from very mild to severe. If you feel remorse after committing a crime, you are not a psychopath. Generally psychopaths are indifferent to, or even enjoy, the torment they cause to others.

In modern society it is very difficult to identify psychopaths because most of them are good workers. They also show signs of empathy and know how to win friends and influence people. The sheen may rub off at any given moment. They know how to get away with what they do. What they are really doing is sizing up their prey. Sometimes a person may become a psychopath when he does not get parental love. Those who live alone are also likely to end up as psychopaths.

Recent studies show that genetics matters in producing a psychopath. Adele Forth, a psychology professor at Carleton University in Canada, says callousness is at least partly inherited. Some psychopaths torture innocent people for the thrill of doing so. Even cruelty to animals is an act indulged in by psychopaths. You have to be aware of the fact that there are people without conscience in society. Sometimes, with patience, you might be able to change their behaviour. But on most occasions they tend to stay that way forever.

Charming people

We still do not know whether science has developed an antidote to psychopathy. Therefore remember that you might meet a psychopath at some point in your life. For now, beware of charming people who seem to be more interesting than others. Sometimes they look charismatic and sexy. Be wary of people who flatter you excessively. The more you get to know a psychopath, the more you will understand their motives. They are capable of telling you white lies about their age, education, profession or wealth. Psychopaths enjoy dramatic lying for its own sake. If your alarm bells ring, keep away from them.

According to the Psychiatric Diagnostic Manual, the behaviour of a psychopath is termed as antisocial personality disorder. Today it is also known as sociopath. No matter the name, its hallmarks are deceit and a reckless disregard for others. A psychopath’s consistent irresponsibility begets no remorse – only indifference to the emotional pain others may suffer. For a psychopath other people are always ‘things’ to be duped, used and discarded.

Psychopathy, the incapacity to feel empathy or compassion of any sort or the least twinge of conscience, is one of the more perplexing of emotional defects. The heart of the psychopath’s coldness seems to lie in their inability to make anything more than the shallowest of emotional connections.

Absence of empathy is found in husbands who beat up their wives or threaten them with violence. Such men are far more likely to be violent outside the marriage as well. They get into bar fights and battling with co-workers. The danger is that psychopaths lack concern about future punishment for what they do. As they themselves do not feel fear, they have no empathy or compassion for the fear and pain of their victims.

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By R.S. Karunaratne

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Rebuilding the country requires consultation

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A positive feature of the government that is emerging is its responsiveness to public opinion. The manner in which it has been responding to the furore over the Grade 6 English Reader, in which a weblink to a gay dating site was inserted, has been constructive. Government leaders have taken pains to explain the mishap and reassure everyone concerned that it was not meant to be there and would be removed. They have been meeting religious prelates, educationists and community leaders. In a context where public trust in institutions has been badly eroded over many years, such responsiveness matters. It signals that the government sees itself as accountable to society, including to parents, teachers, and those concerned about the values transmitted through the school system.

This incident also appears to have strengthened unity within the government. The attempt by some opposition politicians and gender misogynists to pin responsibility for this lapse on Prime Minister Dr Harini Amarasuriya, who is also the Minister of Education, has prompted other senior members of the government to come to her defence. This is contrary to speculation that the powerful JVP component of the government is unhappy with the prime minister. More importantly, it demonstrates an understanding within the government that individual ministers should not be scapegoated for systemic shortcomings. Effective governance depends on collective responsibility and solidarity within the leadership, especially during moments of public controversy.

The continuing important role of the prime minister in the government is evident in her meetings with international dignitaries and also in addressing the general public. Last week she chaired the inaugural meeting of the Presidential Task Force to Rebuild Sri Lanka in the aftermath of Cyclone Ditwah. The composition of the task force once again reflects the responsiveness of the government to public opinion. Unlike previous mechanisms set up by governments, which were either all male or without ethnic minority representation, this one includes both, and also includes civil society representation. Decision-making bodies in which there is diversity are more likely to command public legitimacy.

Task Force

The Presidential Task Force to Rebuild Sri Lanka overlooks eight committees to manage different aspects of the recovery, each headed by a sector minister. These committees will focus on Needs Assessment, Restoration of Public Infrastructure, Housing, Local Economies and Livelihoods, Social Infrastructure, Finance and Funding, Data and Information Systems, and Public Communication. This structure appears comprehensive and well designed. However, experience from post-disaster reconstruction in countries such as Indonesia and Sri Lanka after the 2004 tsunami suggests that institutional design alone does not guarantee success. What matters equally is how far these committees engage with those on the ground and remain open to feedback that may complicate, slow down, or even challenge initial plans.

An option that the task force might wish to consider is to develop a linkage with civil society groups with expertise in the areas that the task force is expected to work. The CSO Collective for Emergency Relief has set up several committees that could be linked to the committees supervised by the task force. Such linkages would not weaken the government’s authority but strengthen it by grounding policy in lived realities. Recent findings emphasise the idea of “co-production”, where state and society jointly shape solutions in which sustainable outcomes often emerge when communities are treated not as passive beneficiaries but as partners in problem-solving.

Cyclone Ditwah destroyed more than physical infrastructure. It also destroyed communities. Some were swallowed by landslides and floods, while many others will need to be moved from their homes as they live in areas vulnerable to future disasters. The trauma of displacement is not merely material but social and psychological. Moving communities to new locations requires careful planning. It is not simply a matter of providing people with houses. They need to be relocated to locations and in a manner that permits communities to live together and to have livelihoods. This will require consultation with those who are displaced. Post-disaster evaluations have acknowledged that relocation schemes imposed without community consent often fail, leading to abandonment of new settlements or the emergence of new forms of marginalisation. Even today, abandoned tsunami housing is to be seen in various places that were affected by the 2004 tsunami.

Malaiyaha Tamils

The large-scale reconstruction that needs to take place in parts of the country most severely affected by Cyclone Ditwah also brings an opportunity to deal with the special problems of the Malaiyaha Tamil population. These are people of recent Indian origin who were unjustly treated at the time of Independence and denied rights of citizenship such as land ownership and the vote. This has been a festering problem and a blot on the conscience of the country. The need to resettle people living in those parts of the hill country which are vulnerable to landslides is an opportunity to do justice by the Malaiyaha Tamil community. Technocratic solutions such as high-rise apartments or English-style townhouses that have or are being contemplated may be cost-effective, but may also be culturally inappropriate and socially disruptive. The task is not simply to build houses but to rebuild communities.

The resettlement of people who have lost their homes and communities requires consultation with them. In the same manner, the education reform programme, of which the textbook controversy is only a small part, too needs to be discussed with concerned stakeholders including school teachers and university faculty. Opening up for discussion does not mean giving up one’s own position or values. Rather, it means recognising that better solutions emerge when different perspectives are heard and negotiated. Consultation takes time and can be frustrating, particularly in contexts of crisis where pressure for quick results is intense. However, solutions developed with stakeholder participation are more resilient and less costly in the long run.

Rebuilding after Cyclone Ditwah, addressing historical injustices faced by the Malaiyaha Tamil community, advancing education reform, changing the electoral system to hold provincial elections without further delay and other challenges facing the government, including national reconciliation, all require dialogue across differences and patience with disagreement. Opening up for discussion is not to give up on one’s own position or values, but to listen, to learn, and to arrive at solutions that have wider acceptance. Consultation needs to be treated as an investment in sustainability and legitimacy and not as an obstacle to rapid decisionmaking. Addressing the problems together, especially engagement with affected parties and those who work with them, offers the best chance of rebuilding not only physical infrastructure but also trust between the government and people in the year ahead.

 

by Jehan Perera

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