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The Attempted Coup d’etat of 1962

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Excerpted from the memoirs of Rtd. Senior DIG Edward Gunawardena

It was in early 1962 when I was the ASP Gampaha that the historic attempted coup took place. Much has been written about this event and as such I intend recalling from memory only my personal role and other facts within my personal knowledge.

When I received a police telephone message one morning, in February if I remember right, to see DIG Range-I C-C. ‘Jungle’ Dissanayake in his office, I could not guess the reason why I was wanted by the DIG. I tried to contact my SP Jayakody but he had left for Kataragama to attend to some official work assigned to him by the DIG. I had no alternative but to proceed to Police Headquarters.

When I climbed the stairs and approached the office of DIG Range-I there were several colleagues of mine seated on chairs in a row outside the DIG’s cubicle. I distinctly remember S.T. Thurairatnam, V.T. Dickman and P.K. Simon Perera. They were all chatting away happily. I sat on an empty chair with them. Sharp at 10 a.m. ASP Terry Wijesinhe, the DIG’s Personal Assistant came out of the DIG’s room, looked at me with a smile and signaled to follow him.

As soon as I saluted the DIG (Jungle), he smiled broadly and said, “Gunawardena you look very smart” and asked me to sit down. Terry Wijesinhe was standing with a note pad and pen in his hand. “There is going to be a lot of trouble in the country. You will have to be in readiness to make some arrests tonight”.

This did not sound anything strange to me. He suggested that at least one cell in the Gampaha Headquarters station be reserved to lock up those arrested. He also said that some of them will be in the Peliyagoda ASP’s area, but that I will have the power to go anywhere in the Division. “I have sent Jayakody to Kataragama. So you will be the Acting SP,” he said.

He then asked me how the HQI was and whether he will listen to me. I assured him that I had the full co-operation of the HQI and all the OICs. He then asked Terry Wijesinhe to name the people who have to be arrested. When Terry read out the list it really disturbed my conscience. S.D. Bandaranayake, Lakshman Jayakody and R.S. Perera were Members of Parliament. M.P. de Zoysa Snr. was a Senator residing in Gampaha. They were all my friends.

After this list was read out it dawned on me that something sinister was brewing. When I asked Terry Wijesinhe whether they should be kept under house arrest, showing annoyance he arrogantly blurted, “what house arrest? Bring them at gunpoint and lock them up.”

“Gunawardena, be in readiness. Wait for my next message”. With these words the DIG thanked me for coming and requested me to get back to Gampaha and be at the end of a telephone.

All the way back to Gampaha I was thinking as to how I should setabout handling the DIG’s order. With my reading of history and political science I realized that the arrest of MPs was a part of a plan to overthrow the government of Mrs. Bandaranaike. I decided firmly to keep to myself what transpired at Police Headquarters and not to do anything that would look suspicious.

When I dropped in at the Gampaha Station HQI Tharmarajah was keen to find out why the DIG had wanted to see me. I told the HQl that headquarters was expecting some severe unrest in the country and that the police should be in readiness to arrest all likely trouble makers in the area. Tharmarajah assured me that there are not many troublesome types in our area. However I told him not to give days off and leave for a few days and also to reserve one cell in the station. I was hoping however that the occasion will not arise for any MP to be locked up in this cell.

Even if the worst were to happen and I was compelled under some duress to arrest the MPs, I had made plans to tip them off so that they could leave their homes. Even at the Gampaha police station I did not make arrangements for a standby party to spring to action if an eventuality arose. At about 5 p.m. I left for a game of tennis at the Gampaha Club. I met S.D. Bandaranayake’s brothers, Peter and Edwin, and several others. They did not appear to know of any developments in Colombo.

Even by 8 p.m. I had not received any further instructions from the DIG or his Personal Asst. Terry Wijesinhe. I could not gather anything significant from the radio either. There was nothing exciting in the news bulletins of Radio Ceylon. However anxious I was, I couldn’t make up my mind to telephone Police Headquarters and make inquiries. My servant boy Chandradasa had laid the table and dinner was ready.

It was 9.30 when I finished my dinner. As I was about to leave the table the telephone rang. I picked it up with trepidation. I expected the DIG on the line and the order to arrest the persons he had mentioned in the morning. To my surprise the caller was ASP P.K. Simon Perera of the CID office. “Gune, do you know the latest?”, he asked me. “No, Simon”, was my answer. He then asked me whether ‘Jungle’ (DIG C. C. Dissanayake) had given any orders to arrest anybody. My answer was “No Simon”.

“This is confidential Gune. Don’t carry out any orders that Jungle gave in the morning. Jungle, Arndt, Johnpillai, Terry Wijesinhe and several others have been arrested.” I thanked Simon Perera. I did not ask him any question because I understood the situation. Simon who had started his career as a constable had a special regard for me because I had hosted him and his superior, A.M. Seneviratne, in my bachelor home when as CID officers they were on a special inquiry in the Weliweriya area.

Simon’s call relieved me of my anxieties. I knew that I had nothing to worry about. However, as soon as I had retired to bed the telephone rang again. The time was just past 10 p.m. It was the telephone operator at the Gampaha police station. He read out this brief message from the IGP:

” To All OICC Divisions and Districts

From the IGP.

Please don’t carry out whatever instructions of a special nature that you have received from your DIG. Be in readiness to carry out orders only from the IGP.”

This message from the IGP and the information that Simon Perera gave me convinced me that the government had discovered the plot and was in the process of smothering it. Fortunately, I had not made any moves. I had not jumped the gun. I slept well that night.

At about 6.30 a.m. the next morning as the newspapers had not been delivered I was seated in the verandah after a shave, bath etc. dressed in sarong and shirt when I saw M.P. de Zoysa Snr. approaching my house. I greeted him and invited him inside. He was on his usual morning walk.

Before I could speak M.P. De Z. in a loud tone asked me, “What is this hullabaloo In Colombo? Do you know what has happened?” I told him from the little I had heard Jungle and several other senior police officers have been arrested. I also told him that according to my understanding they had been planning to arrest some MPs with a view to overthrowing the government. M.P. de Z. told me that his information was that the police and army had plotted to take over the government; the government had received information of this and Felix Dias Bandaranaike has taken charge of the situation.

 

Chandradasa, my domestic, whispered to me that string hoppers, egg curry and pol sambol had been laid on the table for breakfast. He also told me that there was enough for ‘Zoysa Mahattaya’ too. M.P. de Z. joined me at breakfast. Whilst enjoying the ‘strings’ and sambol I explained to him how democracies have been threatened or even destroyed by unconstitutional or extra-constitutional means.

I told him that the most common of such occurrences were military take-overs of governments. I also told him that it is very unusual for the police to get involved as the police is a civilian organization; and the traditional thinking is that the police have to be conscious and alert about the ambitions of the military. As this useful conversation was about to end the telephone rang.

It was Simon Perera once again. Being an ASP in the CID he was privy to the hottest of news. When I told him that I knew nothing beyond what he told me the night before, he was surprised. He then went on to give me a brief picture of what was happening in Colombo. Felix Dias Bandaranaike had taken full command with ‘Jingle’ Dissanayake (CCD’s brother) DIG CID assisting him.

Apart from senior police officers including retired DIG Sydney de Zoysa, a number of military officers and even civilian types had been taken to the Magazine Prison. I remember him specifically mentioning F.C. de Saram and Douglas Liyanage. Simon Perera also told me that some police officers had acted on the illegal orders secretly issued and gone on to arrest MPs. Simon promised to keep me informed of further developments.

Having thanked Simon, I conveyed all what he had told me to M.P. de Zoysa. He was nonplussed. He began to ask me numerous questions centering on the threats to elected governments. After listening to me on the subject for nearly an hour M.P de Z asked me, “Gune, what would have happened to us if the government was overthrown?” I told him that people hungry for power will not hesitate to kill or imprison their opponents.

The stunned senator feebly responded, “Gune, can it happen in a Buddhist country?”. I told him that even religion is subservient to the overwhelming greed for power. He pondered for a while, thanked me and said, “I am still learning”. M.P. de Z. was a simple honourable gentleman. Although a politician, like most other Sri Lankan politicians of the time had little knowledge of history or political science. But they were certainly less corrupt than their ilk of today.

About two days later my statement was recorded by my SP E.W. Jayakody. In my statement I did not divulge what transpired between me and the DIG. I stuck to the version I had given HQI Tharmarajah – that trouble was expected in the country and the police to be in a state of preparedness to arrest all potential trouble makers. The SP was satisfied. He did not even ask me any question. I had no difficulty in settling down to my normal work.

However on the following night I received a mild shock. My servant and I had gone to sleep. The time was about 9.30. The lights had been put out. The beam of a light entering my bedroom indicated the arrival of a vehicle up to the gate which was not locked. Heavy footfall was heard outside. Chandradasa switched my light on and said, “Sir, the army has come”.

Just then there was stamping of feet in the verandah followed by a yell, “Open the door and come out. You are under arrest”. Dressed in sarong and shirt I opened the door. Chandradasa had switched on the verandah light and was standing behind me.

Lo and behold! It was the newly married couple Tissa and Kamini Karunanayake who were still on their honeymoon. They both hugged me and kissed me. I had been Tissa’s best-man at the wedding a week earlier. Tissa had been a classmate of mine at St. Joseph’s and coincidentally he was a planter on Rilhena estate in Pelmadulla when I was ASP Ratnapura. Kami was the eldest daughter of DIG C.C. Dissanayake. T.D.S.A. Dissanayake, the well known Royal College athlete who later became a diplomat and author was her brother.

I told Chandradasa to take them to the guest room and help carry the baggage from the car. Chandradasa told me there were eggs, sausages and bacon in the fridge and that he would turn out a quick dinner. Having visited me earlier, Tissa knew Chandradasa. He told him to make a few slices of toast too.

Fortunately I had a bottle of Remy Martin. Even Kami joined in a drink and chat that mainly centred on the recent events. Before coming to my place she and Tissa had visited her father C.C. Dissanayake in the Magazine Prison. He had been his usual cheerful self. They enjoyed Chandradasa’s hurriedly cooked beef sausages, bacon omelette and boiled beans and retired to bed by 11 p.m.

When I got up at 6 a.m. the following morning the couple had left leaving a Thank You’ card on my pillow. Chandradasa had ensured they had their tea before they left. Incidentally Ravi Karunanayake one of Sri Lanka’s notable public figures today is the elder son of Tissa and Kami.

I was the fourth witness at the historic coup trial. When I got into the witness box, arrayed before me in the dock were all the distinguished personalities accused of the heinous crime of treason. Douglas Liyanage, F.C, de Saram and C.C. Dissanayake stood prominently in front. C.C.D. looked at me and smiled.

My evidence was led by a Crown Counsel whose name I forget. The testimony was short. It was from the statement that was recorded by SP Jayakody. There was no cross-examination. The men in the dock were smiling. I looked at (Jungle) CCD before stepping down from the witness stand. Rubbing his huge stomach with his left hand, he smiled broadly and gave the ‘thumbs up’ sign with his right hand.

‘Jungle’ appeared to be his usual self. The ‘guilty’ verdict at the Trial at Bar and its reversal by the Privy Council will remain interesting episodes in Sri Lanka’s contemporary history. Indeed this was the first real threat to democracy in this country.



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A murder that shook British India and toppled a king

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Abdul Kadir Bawla was one of the wealthiest men in Bombay at the time of his murder [BBC]

It looked like an ordinary murder.

One hundred years ago on this day – 12 January 1925 – a group of men attacked a couple on a car ride in a upmarket suburb in Bombay (now Mumbai) in colonial India, shooting the man dead and slashing the woman’s face.

But the story that unfolded brought global spotlight on the case, while its complexity put the country’s then British rulers in a spot of bother, and eventually forced an Indian king to abdicate.

Newspapers and magazines described the murder as “perhaps the most sensational crime committed in British India”, and it became “the talk of the city” during the investigation and subsequent trial.

The victim, Abdul Kadir Bawla, 25, was an influential textile businessman and the city’s youngest municipal official. His female companion, Mumtaz Begum, 22, was a courtesan on the run from the harem of a princely state and had been staying with Bawla for the last few months.

On the evening of the murder, Bawla and Mumtaz Begum were in the car with three others, driving in Malabar Hill, an affluent area along the shore of the Arabian Sea. Cars were a rarity in India at the time, and only the rich owned them.

Suddenly, another car overtook them. Before they could react, it collided with theirs, forcing them to stop, according to intelligence and newspaper reports.

The attackers showered expletives on Bawla and shouted “get the lady out”, Mumtaz Begum later told the Bombay High Court.

They then shot Bawla, who died a few hours later.

A group of British soldiers, who had inadvertently taken a wrong turn on their way back from a golf game, heard the gunshots and rushed to the scene.

They managed to catch one of the culprits, but one officer suffered gunshot wounds when an attacker opened fire at them.

Alamy Mumtaz Begum seen wearing a sari, a traditional Indian dress for woman, wearing a bindi on her forehead.
Mumtaz Begum was renowned for her beauty [BBC]

Before fleeing, the remaining attackers made two attempts to snatch the injured Mumtaz Begum from the British officers, who were trying to rush her to the hospital.

The newspapers suggested that attackers’ aim was likely abducting Mumtaz Begum, as Bawla – whom she had met while performing in Mumbai a few months earlier and had been living with since – had earlier received several threats for sheltering her.

The Illustrated Weekly of India promised readers exclusive photographs of Mumtaz Begum, while the police planned to issue a daily bulletin to the press, Marathi newspaper Navakal reported.

Even Bollywood found the case compelling enough to adapt it into a silent murder thriller within months.

“The case went beyond the usual murder mystery as it involved a rich and young tycoon, a slighted king, and a beautiful woman,” says Dhaval Kulkarni, author of The Bawla Murder Case: Love, Lust and Crime in Colonial India.

The attackers’ footprints, as speculated in the media, led investigators to the influential princely state of Indore, which was a British ally. Mumtaz Begum, a Muslim, had lived in the harem of its Hindu king, Maharaja Tukoji Rao Holkar III.

Mumtaz Begum was famed for her beauty. “In her own class, it was said, Mumtaz was without a peer,” KL Gauba wrote in his 1945 book, Famous Trials for Love and Murder.

But the Maharaja’s (king’s) attempts to control her – preventing her from seeing her family alone and keeping her under constant surveillance – soured their relationship, says Kulkarni.

“I was kept under surveillance. I was allowed to see visitors and my relations but somebody always accompanied me,” Mumtaz Begum testified in the court.

Getty Images A locality with sea-facing bunglows, beaches and palm trees.
View from Malabar Hill, Bombay', circa 1920. Malabar Hill, a hillock in southern Mumbai, India. The Malabar Hill district is notably the most exclusive residential area in Mumbai.. Artist: Unknown. (Photo by The Print Collector/Getty Images)
A drawing from the 1920s of Mumbai’s affluent Malabar Hill neighbourhood, where Bawla was murdered [BBC]

In Indore, she gave birth to a baby girl, who died soon after.

“After my child was born, I was unwilling to stay at Indore. I was unwilling because the nurses killed the female child that was born,” Mumtaz Begum told the court.

Within months, she escaped to the northern Indian city of Amritsar, her mother’s place of birth, but troubles followed.

She was watched there too. Mumtaz Begum’s stepfather told the court that the Maharaja wept and begged her to return. But she refused and moved to Bombay, where the surveillance continued.

The trial confirmed what media had speculated following the murder: representatives of the Maharaja had indeed threatened Bawla with dire consequences if he continued to shelter Mumtaz Begum, but he had ignored the warnings.

Following a lead given by Shafi Ahmed, the only attacker captured at the scene, the Bombay police arrested seven men from Indore.

The investigation revealed links to the Maharaja that were hard to ignore. Most of the arrested men were employed by the Indore princely state, had applied for leave around the same time and were in Bombay at the time of the crime.

The murder put the British government in a tough spot. Though it happened in Bombay, the investigation clearly showed the plot was planned in Indore, which had strong ties to the British.

Terming it “the most awkward affair” for the British government, The New Statesman wrote that if it were a minor state, “there would be no particular cause for anxiety”.

“But Indore has been a powerful feudatory of the Raj,” it said.

The British government initially tried to keep mum about the murder’s Indore connection in public. But in private, it discussed the issue with much alarm, communication between the governments of Bombay and British India shows.

Bombay police commissioner Patrick Kelly told the British government that all evidence “points at present to a conspiracy hatched in Indore or by instigation from Indore to abduct Mumtaj [sic] through hired desperadoes”.

The government faced pressure from different sides. Bawla’s community of wealthy Memons, a Muslim community with roots in modern-day Gujarat, raised the issue with the government. His fellow municipal officials mourned his death, saying, “there surely must be something more behind the scene”.

Indian lawmakers demanded answers in the upper house of British India’s legislature and the case was even discussed in the British House of Commons.

Alamy The Maharajah of Indore in California . Sir Tukaji Rae Holkar , the Maharajah of Indore . 11 December 1926
Maharaja Tukoji Rao Holkar III (left) later married an American woman [BBC]

Rohidas Narayan Dusar, a former police officer, writes in his book on the murder that the investigators were under pressure to go slow, but that then police commissioner Kelly threatened to resign.

The case drew top lawyers for both the defence and the prosecution when it reached the Bombay High Court.

One of them was Muhammad Ali Jinnah, who would later become the founding father of Pakistan after India’s partition in 1947. Jinnah defended Anandrao Gangaram Phanse, one of the accused and a top general with the Indore army. Jinnah managed to save his client from the death penalty.

The court sentenced three men to death and three to life imprisonment, but it stopped short of holding the Maharaja accountable.

Justice LC Crump, who led the trial, noted, however, that “there were persons behind them [assailants] whom we cannot precisely indicate”.

“But where an attempt is made to kidnap a woman, who was for 10 years the mistress of the Maharaja of Indore, it is not in the least unreasonable to look to Indore as the quarter from which this attack may have emanated,” the judge remarked.

The case’s prominence meant the British government had to act quickly against the Maharaja. They gave him a choice: face a commission of inquiry or abdicate, according to documents presented to parliament in India.

The Maharaja chose to quit.  “I abdicate my throne in favour of my son on the understanding that no further inquiry into my alleged connection with the Malabar Hill Tragedy will be made,” he wrote to the British government.

After abdicating, the Maharaja stirred more controversy by insisting on marrying an American woman against the will of his family and community. Eventually, she converted to Hinduism and they wed, according to a British home department report.

Meanwhile, Mumtaz Begum received offers from Hollywood and later moved to the US to try her luck there. She faded into obscurity after that.

[BBC]

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Sri Lanka’s Perennial Rice Crisis: Scarcity Despite Self-Sufficiency

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The Farmer in the Dell

by Rajan Philips

The ideological Left and Right in Sri Lanka have staked out their positions on the country’s perennial rice crisis. In the view of the ideological Left, the country’s food crisis including the recent rice crisis is even traceable to the allegedly flawed IMF program. And the preferred solution is getting back to the future and achieving self-sufficiency in food based on a public distribution system that has been neglected and/or abandoned after 1977. What is conveniently forgotten is the scourge of shortages and the ridiculous restrictions on inter-district movement of rice before 1977 that set the political stage ready for the ideological and even habitual, but not at all pragmatically calibrated, launching of economic liberalization.

For the Right which is nowhere near what it was in 1977, the current and the recurrent September to December rice crisis is the cumulative result of the failed policies of price controls, import controls that were reintroduced after 2005, and the old self sufficiency mindset itself. Open up the market for locally produced rice to compete with imported rice and establish steady supplies and a price equilibrium. If prices occasionally rise to become unaffordable, people can eat bread until the hidden hand imposes a new price equilibrium. That is the gospel according to the Right.

Self-sufficiency in Rice

The fact of the matter is that based on annual production and consumption estimates, Sri Lanka has achieved self-sufficiency in rice, and this has been so for about three decades. That it happened under the open economy is not denied. In fact, pursuing self-sufficiency in rice has been a traditional UNP goal and not the SLFP’s. CP de Silva after an illustrious Civil Service career working under Prime Minister DS Senanayake, introduced self-sufficiency to the SLFP vocabulary after becoming a powerful Minister in the 1956 SWRD Bandaranaike government. He was quickly rebuked in parliament by his elder cousin, the LSSP’s Colvin R de Silva, that “one can achieve self-sufficiency only in one’s grave.”

Positive free trade has historically been the cry of the Left from the 19th century. Yet specific to rice and Sri Lanka, the balanced position articulated by Dr. Gamani Corea is a timeless advice, that “agricultural policies should not be guided entirely by considerations of comparative advantage,” … and that it would be “fool-hardy not to achieve a minimum self-reliance in basic food stuffs.” And none more so than in the areas paddy cultivation and rice production that have been so integral to Sri Lanka’s civilizational existence.

Rice in the Mill

At the same time, self-sufficiency in rice is not assured year after year due to adverse climate conditions. Alternating droughts and floods can upset all the self-sufficiency planning, as it happened in 2016. Now we know economic blunders such as the man-made fertilizer crisis can drastically impact our self-sufficiency as we saw in 2022. One would hope that the Rajapaksa history will never repeat itself, but weather disruptions can occur any year and every year. So, there has to be a well laid out Plan B for dealing with shortfalls in rice due to weather conditions.

But the recurrent September-December rice crisis is not due to weather but the manipulation of the supply-demand imbalance between the near constant monthly demand for rice and its biannual supply from the harvests of the Maha and Yala cultivating seasons. The well established seasonal pattern is that the main Maha season accounts for about 60% of local production and its harvest arrives in the mostly in the month of March every year. The harvest of the smaller Yala season brings the balance 40% usually during the month of August.

Monthly ‘Rice-Flow’

The paddy and rice statistics for the year 2023 indicate a total production of just over 3.0M metric tons of rice (out of 4.5M metric tons of paddy) and a total consumption of just under 2.5M metric tons, indicating a net surplus of about half a million metric tons. The monthly ‘rice-flow’ is conditioned by the steady monthly demand of approximately 205,000 metric tons of rice and its biannual points of supply of 1.8M metric tons of the Maha season rice in March-April, and 1.2M metric tons of the Yala season rice in August-September.

The Maha season supply of 1.8M metric tons alone can meet the monthly requirements until about the month of October. With the addition of the Yala supply of 1.2M metric tons by September, a positive ‘rice-flow’ can be maintained (with a surplus of 0.5M metric tons) until the next Maha harvest. This would usually be the case every year unless there is a weather disruption. The recurrent reality, however, is that supply levels drop, and prices increase during the months of September to December, causing rice shortages and price increases and forcing governments to rush in rice imports and exercise price control to avoid a political crisis. Usually, the governments’ remedies have been making matters worse.

The monthly retail price fluctuation is across the main paddy and rice types (samba, nadu, red rice etc.) and it has shown a generally consistent pattern of increasing prices from September to December, falling prices from January to March, slight increases in April, May and June, and ending with decreases over July and August. The highest retail price per kilogram of rice is registered in December and the lowest in March, with a Rs. 10 to Rs. 15 average difference between the two.

The general diagnosis is that the rising price from September to December and the falling price from January to March is the result of supply manipulation by a few large rice millers with large storage capacities who collude among them to restrict supply before December and glut the market after January. The main objective would seem to be not profiteering in the months of September to January but driving down the prices after January so that the millers can pay the minimum price to the farmers for purchasing paddy after the new Maha season harvest in March. The farmers are constantly in a bind no matter what the season is. They have no storage capacity and are constrained to turn over their harvest not to any miller or buyer, but generally to the one to whom they are invariably indebted to for obtaining seed paddy, purchasing fertilizer and other inputs.

The alternative explanation is that the rice stocks with millers go down during the year end months even as the demand for rice slightly goes up due to the increase in the number of tourists arriving in the country. When imports were freely allowed, the explanation goes, the recurring shortfalls were compensated by imported rice varieties so that rice supplies were maintained, and sharp price increases were avoided. This pattern was apparently broken after 2005 by the restriction on imports and high import duties and the impacts on the people became harder.

But the dispute over imports does not explain why rice stocks should fall below demand levels at any time during the year unless there have been weather disruptions. The additional demand attributed to tourist populations or beer production is likely to marginal at best. While there must be flexibility in turning to imports to deal with shortfalls in local production due to adverse whether conditions, relying on imports should not be the answer to supply manipulations by large rice millers.

Todate the problem of the market power of the large rice millers has been seen as more of a political problem but not as a technical as a technical challenge. At the political level, i.e., ministerial and cabinet level, the response to the rice crisis all these years has been one of inaction and overreaction. The inaction is by the government towards the widely acknowledged problem of a handful of large rice millers controlling the marketing and pricing of locally produced rice during the inter-seasonal months between end of the yala season harvest and the beginning of the maha season harvest. The overreaction is also by the government to address rice shortage and price increase by enforcing price controls and allowing rice imports.

For the present NPP government, unlike its recent predecessors, there is no evidence of there being vested interests to be served or having economic IOUs to anyone. On the other hand, every government this century – whether governments of the Rajapaksas by the Rajapaksas for the Rajapaksas, or the Sirisena-Ranil misadventure, or the Ranil-Rajapaksa caretaker regime – have been notorious for safeguarding vested interests and doling out IOUs. Or mostly IOUs in the case of the Rajapaksas.

As well, the NPP government notwithstanding its ideological prehistory is turning out to be the most practical government that this country has seen in a long time. By being practical in governing – I mean a governing approach to achieve results through actions based on evidence and information. Specific to the rice situation, Sri Lanka has gone through both the public distribution system and the private marketing system, and neither approach has by itself always produced the desired results.

Being practical in this instance would mean leveraging what works and under-using what does not. It also means that the government must rapidly work towards establishing a comprehensive database covering the rice milling industry, as well as a marketing information system for the rice sector at all levels. Agricultural Economists and Professionals have been calling for this for some time and it is a task that requires the government’s immediate attention.

(To be continued)

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Wars They Waged; Price We Paid

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by Nilantha Ilangamuwa

The Vietnam War should have been the United States’ breaking point—a humiliating defeat that exposed the futility of projecting brute force in a world that had long learned to resist imperialism. But instead of becoming a sobering moment of reflection, it ignited a chain reaction of conflicts, interventions, and proxy wars that would devastate nations and leave millions dead. From Ronald Reagan to Joe Biden, the American war machine has not only endured but expanded, thriving on chaos and suffering. With Donald Trump poised to return, his new administration promises to perpetuate this bloodstained legacy, consolidating power at home while unleashing destruction abroad.

Reagan’s tenure marked a revival of the Cold War mindset, framed by a simplistic, almost cartoonish view of global politics. His administration orchestrated covert operations and military interventions with reckless abandon, leaving a trail of devastation across continents. In Grenada, a minuscule island nation, the U.S. flexed its muscle in a laughable display of overkill. Yet, the price for the people of Grenada was far from humorous—hundreds of civilians dead in an operation sold as a “rescue mission.” In Lebanon, Reagan’s deployment of U.S. Marines ended in catastrophe, with 241 servicemen killed in a suicide bombing. The retaliatory shelling of Lebanese villages left countless civilians dead, their stories erased in the official narrative.

George H. W. Bush brought the carnage to Panama and Iraq. Operation Just Cause in Panama left at least 3,000 civilians dead, according to independent estimates—numbers far higher than the official U.S. tally. The Gulf War of 1991 killed tens of thousands of Iraqi soldiers and civilians, with entire neighbourhoods flattened by American air-power. The sanctions that followed—a form of economic warfare—led to the deaths of an estimated 500,000 Iraqi children, as reported by UNICEF. But these deaths were dismissed by then-Secretary of State Madeleine Albright as a price worth paying.

Vietnam War

Bill Clinton’s presidency, often remembered for its charm and centrism, was anything but peaceful. Under his watch, NATO’s bombing campaign in Kosovo killed an estimated 500 civilians, while strikes on critical infrastructure plunged the region into chaos. In Somalia, Clinton inherited and expanded a disastrous intervention that culminated in the infamous Black Hawk Down incident. The fallout was not limited to American soldiers—it cost the lives of an estimated 10,000 Somali civilians caught in the crossfire.

The Bush-Cheney years saw the bloodbath reach industrial levels. The 2003 invasion of Iraq, based on falsified intelligence, unleashed a catastrophe of staggering proportions. By conservative estimates, 200,000 Iraqi civilians died in the war, though many argue the real number exceeds half a million. Afghanistan, initially framed as a righteous response to 9/11, turned into a graveyard for American credibility. The war cost over 70,000 Afghan civilian lives, with many more lost to starvation and disease caused by the destruction of infrastructure. These numbers, while horrifying, barely scratch the surface.

Barack Obama, heralded as a harbinger of change, instead became the drone king. Under his administration, drone strikes killed an estimated 3,800 people in Pakistan, Yemen, and Somalia. These numbers include as many as 800 civilians, though independent investigations suggest the real toll is much higher. Libya, once a stable if repressive state, was reduced to a failed state after NATO’s intervention, with Obama admitting it was his greatest foreign policy mistake. Yet his admission did nothing to rebuild Libya, now a haven for human traffickers and militia warlords.

Donald Trump’s first term shattered even the pretense of restraint. Civilian casualties from U.S. airstrikes in Syria and Iraq soared, with independent monitors estimating at least 4,500 civilians killed in 2017 alone. In Somalia, Trump’s loosening of drone strike protocols led to a surge in civilian deaths, including women and children obliterated in remote villages. Yemen’s civil war, fueled by U.S.-supplied bombs and logistical support to Saudi Arabia, created what the U.N. calls the world’s worst humanitarian crisis. By some estimates, over 377,000 Yemenis have died—many of them from famine and disease exacerbated by the relentless bombing campaigns.

Joe Biden’s administration, while promising a pivot to diplomacy, has only perpetuated the violence. The withdrawal from Afghanistan, while ending America’s longest war, was executed with callous disregard for human life. At least 170 civilians were killed in a single ISIS-K bombing during the chaotic evacuation. Biden’s continued drone strikes and military presence in Syria ensure that civilians remain collateral in America’s unending “war on terror.” In Ukraine, U.S. military aid fuels a war that has already claimed tens of thousands of lives on both sides, with no end in sight.

Across these decades, the pattern is unmistakable: the United States does not fight wars for freedom or democracy. It fights for hegemony, resources, and geopolitical advantage, with human lives as expendable currency. The statistics are staggering but fail to capture the depth of the tragedy. From Vietnam to Yemen, from Iraq to Libya, the human cost is always paid by those least equipped to bear it: the poor, the displaced, the voiceless.

In just days, Donald Trump will return to the White House, his second administration poised to escalate the already relentless machinery of American war. This time, the gloves are off—his power more consolidated, his team of loyalists more ruthless, and his ambitions unrestrained. The team surrounding him will be battle-hardened ideologues with little patience for opposition. Trump has openly embraced authoritarian impulses, and his foreign policy will likely mirror his domestic ambitions—unapologetic, ruthless, and geared toward consolidating dominance. For the impoverished, this is a death sentence.

The costs will not be borne by those who plan wars from air-conditioned offices or justify them in press briefings but by the powerless: Yemeni mothers sifting through rubble for scraps, Syrian children cowering as drones circle above, and Gazan families freezing to death amid the ruins of their bombed-out homes. These are not accidents of war; they are deliberate outcomes of a global system that treats human life as expendable in the pursuit of dominance over dignity. The bombs will continue to fall, the starving will continue to die, and the architects of this destruction will dine in opulence, their hands stained with the blood of the voiceless. Yet, at the start of every year, we exchange ‘Happy New Year’ greetings — an ironic paradox of human behaviour.

We collectively absorb these atrocities—not with shock or outrage, but with numbed detachment, anesthetized by the relentless churn of media cycles and the droning rationalizations of pundits. It is not that we do not care—it is that we have been conditioned not to. Once our souls have been amputated by decades of warmongering, by a system that normalizes suffering as the cost of ‘security,’ we survive in resignation, compelled by the machinery of indifference to keep moving forward.

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