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As Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga, Sri Lanka’s first female Executive President, turns 80 on June 29, a timely question arises: how will history remember her legacy? Born into a political family as the daughter of two Prime Ministers, her path to leadership was steeped in legacy. But it was not lineage alone that defined her public life. Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga, commonly known as CBK, carved out a political identity marked by her bold decisions, reformist ambition, and resilience in the face of violence and controversy. Historians may debate the long-term impact of her policies, but they are unlikely to overlook her key milestones— first, most notably, her key role in ushering in two of the most consequential regime changes in modern Sri Lankan history: in 1994 and again in 2015.
In analyzing critical political transformations, historians often emphasize the dynamic interplay between subjective factors and objective conditions. While objective conditions may signal the potential for political change, such change cannot occur without the presence of key subjective factors—such as leadership and the formation of alternative political alliances. In the absence of subjective factors, even a repugnant system that appears ripe for transformation may continue to persist. Conversely, powerful subjective forces can themselves generate or intensify the objective conditions necessary for political change. The pivotal role of CBK as a decisive subjective factor in shaping and mobilizing the objective conditions for these two regime changes has been widely recognized in historical accounts of modern Sri Lankan political history.
Her role in ending the 17-year rule of the United National Party (UNP) in both the parliamentary elections and presidential elections in 1994 is particularly remarkable, especially given the deep internal divisions within the Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP) and the broader disunity among anti-UNP forces. Following the assassination of her husband, Vijaya Kumaratunga, the United Left Front quickly disintegrated, and under threat from the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP), she temporarily left the country and lived in London. During this period, the main opposition party, the SLFP, was fractured at its core, while the nation was engulfed in political violence, widespread corruption, and a wave of political assassinations. This period of crisis culminated in the assassination of President Ranasinghe Premadasa in a suicide bombing during the May Day rally in 1993.
Amid this bleak political landscape, CBK re-entered politics and took on the leadership of the opposition. She initiated the formation of a new political alliance rooted in the Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP) and successfully united various fragmented anti-UNP parties and groups under the banner of the People’s Alliance (PA), with the support and endorsement of her mother, former Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike. Uniting the different factions within the SLFP alone was a formidable challenge. At the same time, Kumaratunga introduced a reformist political agenda that marked a clear departure from the traditional policy framework of SLFP. Her platform prioritized a political solution to the ethnic conflict through extensive devolution of power and included a strong commitment to democratic reform, most notably the proposed abolition of the Executive Presidency. She led the People’s Alliance to a decisive victory, winning 62.28% of the vote in the 1994 presidential election.
A new phase of political reform began in the wake of the People’s Alliance (PA) victory in 1994. This discussion does not seek to evaluate the overall successes or failures of the CBK administration, but rather to highlight the significance of two key—though ultimately unfulfilled—initiatives that merit scholarly attention. The first was a peace initiative aimed at resolving the ethnic conflict and ending the Eelam war; the second, a proposed constitutional reform intended to broaden democratic governance, including the abolition of the Executive Presidency. While neither initiative came to fruition, both reflect the reformist ambition that characterized the early years of her tenure, as well as the contradiction between political aspirations and political realities.
The euphoria generated by CBK’s 1994 electoral victory for a swift peace through a negotiated political settlement with the LTTE was shattered after the collapse of direct talks with them in April 1995. In July 1995 the concept paper on constitutional reforms embodying devolution of power to regions was published. Concurrently, CBK launched the Sudu Nelum Movement, an extensive public awareness campaign aimed at preparing the public for a peaceful settlement of the ethnic conflict. However, these initiatives unfolded alongside an escalating armed conflict, as the LTTE resumed its violent campaign. Despite the escalating military threat, CBK remained steadfast in her commitment to a political solution rooted in meaningful national integration. She was the first to establish a separate cabinet portfolio directly under the President. This steadfast pursuit of peace remains a significant chapter in Sri Lanka’s ongoing search for a lasting resolution to the ethnic conflict. The end of the war created a historic opportunity to find a durable solution to the ethnic issue by building a unified nation through genuine national integration. Revitalizing her vision—with necessary refinements—could offer a viable path forward.
One of the most politically significant initiatives undertaken by President Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga (CBK) was the push for a new constitution, which notably proposed the abolition of the Executive Presidency. This initiative consumed considerable political energy and involved extensive consultation. The draft was presented to the Parliamentary Select Committee, where it was discussed on 77 separate occasions—reflecting the seriousness and depth of the deliberations. Additionally, representatives of the People’s Alliance (PA) and the United National Party (UNP) held 17 rounds of bilateral discussions on the proposed reforms. However, despite this intensive engagement, the UNP employed delaying tactics and ultimately withdrew its support during the final stage in the Parliament. This last-minute reversal effectively derailed what could have been a historic move toward a more democratic constitutional framework. Since then, the abolition of the Executive Presidency has remained a central—but still unrealized—topic in Sri Lanka’s political discourse.
Although CBK had retired from the presidency in 2005, her influential political and social engagement did not cease. In retrospect, her pivotal role in the ousting of the Mahinda Rajapaksa regime in 2015 stands out as a significant contribution to Sri Lanka’s contemporary political history. Despite the urgent demand for regime change, it is unlikely that such a transformation would have been possible without CBK’s strategic intervention. Her efforts were instrumental in uniting diverse civil society actors—most notably those led by Rev. Maduluwawe Sobitha Thero—and aligning them with various opposition parties and groups. Through her respected political standing and behind-the-scenes diplomacy, CBK successfully facilitated consensus-building among civil society groups and major opposition parties, including Tamil political entities in the North. This coalition-building was crucial to presenting a unified front and ultimately defeating what had appeared to be the invincible Rajapaksa regime at the 2015 presidential elections.
In the 2015 presidential election, President Mahinda Rajapaksa went to early polls with a self-adorned halo as the leader who brought an end to Sri Lanka’s 30-year civil war. The end of war was indeed a real solace to the people and Rajapaksa was able to leverage it for considerable political gain. In addition, he also took credit for launching several large-scale infrastructure projects. These included the Mattala International Airport, the Hambantota Port, the Colombo Port City, the Southern Expressway, the Norochcholai Coal Power Plant, and the Upper Kotmale Hydropower Project.
By the time of the 2015 presidential election, widespread public disillusionment with the prevailing political system had reached a critical point. The system was widely perceived as deeply corrupt and dysfunctional. The centralization of power within the Rajapaksa family and their close associates, combined with increasingly authoritarian tendencies masked by a democratic façade, led to the alienation of many within the country’s educated and politically aware segments. Moreover, the regime’s excessive political interference in administrative affairs and excessive politicization of the public service disenchanted a significant portion of government employees. As a result, the demand for a fundamental transformation of the political order grew considerably. While opposition political parties remained fragmented and lacked cohesion, civil society organizations, spearheaded by Rev. Maduluwawe Sobitha Thero, emerged as the primary force resisting the democratic backsliding of the regime. It was in this context that CBK stepped forward to play a pivotal role in uniting the intensely divided opposition and civil society forces. She was instrumental in identifying an unexpected political figure and facilitating his emergence as the common presidential candidate.
The country’s political atmosphere changed markedly after the unseating of the Mahinda Rajapaksa regime. Soon after assuming office, the Yahapalana government introduced the 19th Amendment to the Constitution on April 28, 2015. It curtailed the President’s executive powers and incorporated provisions aimed at enhancing good governance, marking an initial step toward broader democratic reforms. . Despite these early initiatives, the government struggled to maintain its reformist momentum. The cohabitation arrangement between the President and the Prime Minister proved ineffective, and from the outset, competing centers of power emerged within the Government. Meanwhile, the Central Bank bond scandal severely undermined the government’s credibility in its commitment to anti-corruption. The political rift culminated in a constitutional crisis on October 26, 2018, when the President dismissed the Prime Minister and appointed Mahinda Rajapaksa in his place. The Supreme Court later deemed the President’s actions unconstitutional and reinstated the dismissed Prime Minister. Nevertheless, the Yahapalana government had lost much of its legitimacy, and the political environment had become increasingly unstable and pessimistic.
The Yahapalana government’s failure to fulfill its mandate does not render the unseating of the Rajapaksa regime in 2015 politically futile. Before 2015, the Rajapaksa regime had evolved into a deeply entrenched system based on a political class that permeated nearly every aspect of the state and society. That same political class could not fully reemerge in its old form by 2019. The Yahapalana government’s shortcomings did not make Rajapaksa-style authoritarianism any more acceptable to the public. In the subsequent presidential and parliamentary elections, many voters turned to Gotabaya Rajapaksa and the Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna, partly as a rebuke to Yahapalana’ s failures and partly due to the absence of a credible alternative. Although the Rajapaksas returned to power under Gotabaya Rajapaksa, the reestablishment of their earlier political hegemony proved elusive. Gotabya Rajapaksa was no Mahinda Rajapaksa. The structural changes in the political landscape set in motion in 2015 could not be easily reversed. Perhaps most significantly, the public had acquired the confidence that even a powerful and seemingly invincible leader like Mahinda Rajapaksa could be sent home through democratic means. The contributions of Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga and Ven. Maduluwawe Sobitha Thero were instrumental, albeit in different ways, in fostering this public confidence for a political change.
Though certain actions by President Gotabaya Rajapaksa accelerated the collapse, the economic breakdown of 2022 was ultimately the result of years of systemic mismanagement. A key factor was the launching of economically unviable mega-projects, often funded through high-interest foreign loans, which significantly burdened the national economy. At its core, the economic crisis reflects a deeper and long-standing political crisis that has gripped the post-war Sri Lankan state. The social and political forces that emerged in 2015—despite setbacks during the disillusionment with the Yahapalana government—resurfaced in a new form through the Aragalaya . The political significance of the Aragalaya cannot be reduced to its immediate outcomes, such as the elevation of Ranil Wickremesinghe to the presidency.
More fundamentally, it delivered a severe blow to Rajapaksa hegemony and disrupted the entrenched dominance of the ‘political class’. It also opened the door for the unprecedented electoral success of the Jathika Jana Balavegaya (NPP). History unfolds in unexpected ways—marked by both continuity and rupture—and it is often only in retrospect that the true direction of these forces becomes clear, leaving observers both reflective and astonished. Within this longer trajectory, the role of Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga in 1994 and 2015 remains equally significant—highlighting the enduring impact of a political figure, who helped shape key transitional moments.
Assessing Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga’s political legacy requires a long historical perspective, one that accounts for the complexities of her time and the broader trajectory of Sri Lankan politics. As she marks her 80th year, CBK remains a symbol of resilience in a deeply contested political landscape. Her presidency—characterized by both bold initiatives and contentious decisions—continues to prompt reflection and debate. Whether in her pursuit of peace, her efforts at navigating entrenched political rivalries, or her advocacy for reconciliation, Kumaratunga’s legacy endures as a significant chapter in the island’s post-independence history. As Johan Huizinga reminds us, “ All profound changes awaken profound anxieties, and that is why history is never finished .”
by Gamini Keerawella ✍️ Professor Emeritus of History, University of Peradeniya
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by Prof. Ranjith Bandara, PhD (Qld.) Emeritus Professor of Economics, University of Colombo, Sri Lanka
America’s midterm elections of 3 November 2026 have delivered a message that Sri Lankan politicians should neither dismiss nor misunderstand: no election victory gives a leader permanent ownership of public power. Democrats won both houses of Congress, constraining President Donald Trump’s legislative agenda. Trump was not on the ballot and remains President, but voters used the opportunity to impose an important political restraint.
The result is not evidence that American democracy is perfect. The United States struggles with polarisation, money in politics and disputes over democratic norms. Yet institutions can still provide a means of correction. For Sri Lanka, where elections have sometimes been delayed and political leaders have too often treated state institutions as extensions of party authority, the comparison is instructive.
Elections are a right, not a government favour
The clearest lesson concerns the regularity of elections. American midterms take place according to a legally established schedule, whether the governing party expects to win or lose. Even a powerful President cannot cancel them because the political climate is unfavourable. The Constitution also bars anyone from being elected president more than twice.
Sri Lanka presents a troubling contrast. Local elections, due in 2023, were postponed until May 2025. In August 2024, the Supreme Court held that the failure to conduct those polls violated fundamental rights. Election funding must not depend on executive convenience.
More seriously, Sri Lanka has held no provincial council election since 2014. Legal complications arising from the 2017 changes to the electoral system are real. A parliamentary committee is examining solutions in 2026. But prolonged legal deadlock cannot justify leaving an elected tier of government vacant indefinitely. Politicians who praise democracy while tolerating these delays must explain that contradiction. National elections cannot compensate for years without elected provincial representatives to answer citizens’ concerns about schools, healthcare and local administration.
The American elections demonstrate that popularity can evaporate surprisingly quickly. Republicans had control of Congress before the midterms; Democrats won both chambers in a backlash shaped by economic grievances, corruption concerns and opposition to the administration’s policies. Electoral authority is conditional, not hereditary.
Sri Lanka offers a relevant domestic comparison. The National People’s Power secured 159 parliamentary seats and about 61.6 percent of the vote in November 2024. In the May 2025 local elections, its national vote share was approximately 43.3 percent. Different turnout, candidates and local issues make a direct comparison imperfect. Nevertheless, they remind any governing party that an impressive majority is not an unlimited endorsement of every subsequent decision.
The lesson also applies to Opposition parties. A government’s declining popularity does not automatically confer public trust on its rivals. They must earn credibility through policy and conduct.
Citizens judge results, not political performances
According to American voter polling, high living costs were central to the midterm verdict, alongside concern about corruption and the direction of government. People judged promises against prices and security, not slogans.
Sri Lankan leaders should consider how familiar this sounds. Macroeconomic stabilisation after Sri Lanka’s economic crisis is essential. Yet stronger reserves, or growth figures, mean little to families unable to afford food, graduates without suitable jobs or enterprises burdened by debt.
Sound statistics are indispensable, but the question is whether economic gains reach households fairly and durably. Governments should publish credible evidence on employment, real incomes, poverty, access to services and the distribution of adjustment costs. Celebrating recovery before citizens experience it invites public disillusionment.
Power must never become personal property
One of the more disturbing findings of the American voter surveys was the prominence of public concern about government corruption and political self-interest. Allegations are not proof. Yet perceived self-interest can destroy legitimacy long before a court delivers a verdict.
Sri Lanka has repeatedly suffered from political patronage, questionable procurement practices, appointments driven by loyalty and the blurred boundary between public resources and party interests. No party holds a monopoly on these practices; they survive when winners refuse to scrutinise their own ranks.
Declarations of assets, transparent public contracts, independent audits, rules against conflicts of interest and impartial investigations should therefore be treated as ordinary obligations of office, not optional gestures. Accountability must rest on evidence and due process, not selective prosecution or political revenge.
Democracy requires institutions strong enough to say no
Midterm elections do not remove an American President. They change the balance of power in Congress, strengthening its capacity to scrutinise government, control legislation and investigate misconduct. The President retains substantial constitutional powers, including the veto. In the AP Voter Poll, roughly seven in 10 respondents said Congress had not provided enough checks on the President. Democracy depends on institutional restraints, not merely the character of election winners.
Sri Lanka needs the same principle in its own constitutional setting. Parliament should examine executive decisions instead of functioning as an automatic approval mechanism. The Election Commission must have reliable funding and operational independence. Courts, independent commissions, auditors and journalists need the freedom to question officials, without fear or favour.
A government confident in its integrity should not be threatened by criticism. A responsible Opposition, meanwhile, must distinguish legitimate scrutiny from obstruction designed merely to create instability.
Political loyalty cannot outrank public interest
Another lesson concerns leadership culture. Leaders, who surround themselves only with loyal supporters, gradually lose access to uncomfortable truths. Public institutions become instruments for protecting personalities, and dissenting advice is treated as betrayal. Such habits may produce apparent unity, but they reduce the government’s ability to correct mistakes.
Sri Lanka has experienced this problem under different political administrations. Political appointments and the expectation of unquestioning loyalty have too often weakened professional decision-making. Competence, integrity and independence of judgment must carry greater weight than party allegiance.
Political parties should practise internally the democracy they celebrate publicly: transparent candidate selection, meaningful debate, opportunities for women and younger members, and leadership that can be challenged without intimidation. Without internal reform, an electoral change may replace one circle of privilege with another.
Reforms Sri Lanka should undertake now
These lessons call for action rather than another round of speeches. Parliament should urgently resolve the legal obstacles to Provincial Council elections and publish a credible timetable. Funding for lawful elections should be protected from executive interference. Election spending and political donations should be disclosed transparently and existing accountability rules enforced consistently.
Parliamentary committees should be empowered to examine spending and appointments, with findings available to the public. Independent investigations should follow evidence wherever it leads. Economic recovery should be measured by household wellbeing as well as national aggregates. Opposition parties should propose workable alternatives, not simply await public frustration.
Above all, elected officials should abandon the assumption that the state belongs to whoever commands a parliamentary majority.
Sri Lanka deserves credit for competitive presidential and parliamentary elections in 2024 and for its capacity to change governments through the ballot. That democratic strength should not be obscured. Yet it cannot excuse long-delayed Provincial elections, earlier failures over local polls or persistent weaknesses in accountability.
The American midterms offer neither a perfect model nor a partisan formula. They offer a reminder that power is borrowed from citizens and is subject to continuing judgment. Political leaders who forget this may win elections but lose public confidence.
The most important lesson for every Sri Lankan politician, in government or Opposition, is, therefore, simple:
The people are not temporary guests in a politician’s democracy. Politicians are temporary trustees of the people’s democracy.
Continue Reading Features Government makes charity difficult in Sri Lanka – Pethiyagoda Published
Sri Lanka’s tax system discourages charitable giving and makes it unnecessarily difficult for businesses and individuals to support social causes, biodiversity scientist Dr. Rohan Pethiyagoda said, calling for reforms that would encourage philanthropy rather than penalise those who seek to do good.
“When you want to do good, you shouldn’t be taxed for doing it,” Pethiyagoda said, questioning the restrictions placed on tax deductions for corporate charitable contributions.
Speaking at a discussion titled People, Nature & Business: Priorities for a Liveable Future, held at Genesis, the Dilmah Centre for a Sustainable Future, in Colombo on November 5, he argued that Sri Lanka had a deeply rooted tradition of charity and giving, but that the country’s policy framework did not adequately support it.
His remarks came as Dilmah Chairman, Dr. Dilhan C. Fernando called on businesses to rethink the purpose of profit, insisting that commercial success should follow the creation of social and environmental value, rather than come at their expense.
Economist Dr. Nishan de Mel, the third speaker, warned that the continued degradation of nature was not merely an environmental concern but a direct threat to economic activity, with around 55 per cent of global GDP moderately or highly dependent on nature.
The discussion also coincided with the presentation of the Dilmah IMPACT Report, which examined the company’s approach to social responsibility, environmental stewardship and the role of business in building a more liveable future.
Pethiyagoda said philanthropy and social responsibility had long been part of Sri Lankan society, but the regulatory environment could discourage those willing to contribute. Referring to the limits on tax deductions for charitable contributions, he said the country needed to reconsider whether its tax arrangements were helping or hindering public-spirited giving.
He also recalled how environmental awareness in Sri Lanka, particularly in the early 1990s, was largely confined to English-speaking and urban circles. Reaching rural communities required information to be made accessible in Sinhala and other local languages.
Working with Prof. Sarath Kotagama and Prof. Nirmal Gunatilleke, he helped establish a publishing initiative that produced more than 40 nature-related books for sale. The profits were then channelled into publishing Sinhala-language books, which were distributed free or at nominal prices.
The commercial publications effectively helped subsidise the wider public education effort, allowing the initiative to operate close to break-even while extending knowledge of Sri Lanka’s natural heritage beyond a relatively small readership.
“I think we changed the game,” he said, recalling how the books helped bring nature and biodiversity into the lives of people who had previously had little access to such material.
He described seeing children in Talangama still using a Sinhala bird book published around three decades earlier. Its cover had become worn through years of use, but the book remained part of their learning.
Pethiyagoda also praised the philanthropic contribution of the late Merrill J. Fernando, founder of Dilmah, whom he described as a formidable businessman whose personal values were reflected in his commitment to social causes.
Estimating the scale of Dilmah-related philanthropy at approximately Rs. 7 billion, Pethiyagoda referred to support extended to children with autism and down syndrome, persons with disabilities, older people, women and disadvantaged communities.
He said Fernando had demonstrated that business success and generosity need not be opposing forces. Despite building an internationally recognised tea business, he had not made ostentatious displays of wealth the measure of his success.
Fernando’s son, Dilhan, said the philosophy behind the company’s approach to business had been shaped by his father’s belief that wealth carried an obligation to others.
His father, who built a business operating in 108 countries, had not enjoyed the advantages of a university education or formal training in economics and business management. Yet, Fernando said, he possessed a clear understanding of what business should ultimately achieve.
“He didn’t have a sustainability strategy. He had a conscience,” Dilhan said.
His father’s guiding principle was that money should be earned not simply for personal accumulation, but also to help those who needed it more. That conviction, he said, shaped the way the business approached its responsibilities towards people and the natural world.
Dilhan recalled being taught to do what was right regardless of whether it was convenient, profitable, expedient or efficient. That principle, he argued, was increasingly important at a time when businesses were under pressure to reduce costs and compete primarily on price.
The pursuit of lower prices, he said, could conceal the real costs of production. When businesses forced producers to accept lower returns, the consequences were often borne by workers, communities and the environment.
Price, he argued, was not the same as value. A product could be cheap in the marketplace while carrying substantial social and environmental costs that were not reflected in its price.
He challenged businesses to reconsider the conventional understanding of commercial success, arguing that the creation of social value and the protection of natural capital should precede the generation of economic returns.
“Anything different is extraction,” he said.
Social value, he explained, included the wellbeing and livelihoods of people, the inclusion of persons with disabilities, opportunities for children and the resilience of communities. Natural value encompassed healthy soils, rivers, biodiversity, pollinators and the ecosystems on which production ultimately depended.
Businesses that depleted these foundations while reporting financial gains were, in effect, transferring costs to society and future generations.
Dilhan said his father had understood that taking from nature required giving something back. The company’s experience had reinforced the belief that responsible stewardship was not a burden on business but an essential condition for its long-term prosperity.
He also questioned the assumptions underpinning consumer-driven commercial activity, pointing to major shopping events such as Singles’ Day and Black Friday as examples of a culture in which consumption and price competition could overshadow the wider consequences of production.
Businesses, he said, needed to look beyond immediate commercial pressures and recognise their responsibilities to the people and ecosystems that made their operations possible.
He urged the media, financial institutions and the business community to give greater prominence to these questions, warning that future generations would face increasingly difficult choices if current patterns of extraction and consumption continued.
Economist Dr. Nishan de Mel placed those arguments within a wider economic framework, pointing to research by the World Economic Forum estimating that approximately 55 per cent of global GDP — around USD 58 trillion — was moderately or highly dependent on nature.
He cautioned that this figure should not be interpreted as a monetary valuation of nature. Rather, it represented the scale of economic activity exposed to risks arising from the loss of natural capital and the disruption of ecosystem services.
The dependence was not limited to businesses that directly exploited natural resources. Even industries that appeared far removed from agriculture, forests or wildlife relied on nature through their supply chains.
A person working in the accounts department of a dairy or cheese company, for example, might not regard nature as central to the job. Yet the business depended on grass, cattle, water and the ecological systems that sustained production.
De Mel drew on the work of Prof. Sir Partha Dasgupta, whose landmark review for the UK Treasury examined the economics of biodiversity. The central issue, he said, was that the destruction of nature represented the depletion of an asset, but conventional economic accounting often failed to record that loss adequately.
National accounts traditionally placed considerable emphasis on produced capital, while natural capital — forests, wetlands, rivers, soil and biodiversity — was frequently overlooked.
As a result, the conversion of a forest into a commercial asset could appear as an economic gain, even when the natural wealth being destroyed was not properly reflected in the calculation.
De Mel argued that economic decision-making needed to account for produced, human and natural capital. Without that broader approach, countries and businesses risked mistaking the depletion of their underlying assets for genuine economic progress.
He also used the familiar tragedy of the commons to explain how individual decisions could undermine resources shared by everyone.
If a pasture could sustainably support ten cows owned by ten families, the introduction of an eleventh cow would place pressure on the grassland beyond its capacity to regenerate. If others followed the same logic, the shared resource would eventually deteriorate, leaving all the families worse off.
The same problem could arise when companies competed to extract more from shared natural resources without contributing to their maintenance and regeneration.
De Mel identified three responsibilities for businesses: avoid becoming the additional user that pushes a shared resource beyond its limits; do not benefit from resources without contributing to their upkeep; and support fair institutions and rules that enable cooperation.
He said cooperation was essential because environmental challenges could not be resolved by individual businesses acting alone. Governments, companies, communities and international institutions needed to establish mechanisms through which shared resources could be protected and managed.
The three speakers approached the question from different perspectives — philanthropy, business ethics and economics — but their arguments converged on a common concern: the long-term viability of business and society depended on recognising the value of people and nature.
Pethiyagoda’s call for a more supportive environment for philanthropy highlighted the role of public policy in encouraging social investment. Dilhan Fernando’s emphasis on conscience challenged businesses to look beyond profit and price. De Mel’s economic analysis showed why the depletion of nature could no longer be treated as an external concern.
Together, they questioned a model of development that measures success primarily through immediate financial returns while overlooking the social and ecological assets on which those returns depend.
By Mahil Dole Senior Superintendent of Police (Retd.)
In recent weeks Colombo has sought to present itself as a capable host for international tourism and business events. Promotional efforts, including the Sri Lanka MICE Expo, brought together overseas buyers, operators and media to highlight the city’s hotels, convention facilities and professional services. Such initiatives are important for foreign exchange earnings, employment and the country’s reputation. Yet only a short time later, heavy rainfall on Friday, 6 November, brought large parts of the capital and its transport networks close to a standstill. Roads flooded, people attempting to return home for the weekend were delayed for long periods, railway services were disrupted with commuters held on trains for hours, and the National Hospital experienced flooding that raised immediate operational and health concerns. The meteorological background was already known: systems developing in the Bay of Bengal had produced two cyclonic situations within a week, and earlier effects had disrupted upcountry train services through mudslides and falling trees. The contrast is instructive. It shows both the aspirations of the authorities and the continuing gap between those aspirations and the reliability of basic urban systems
Known Weather, Predictable Disruption
The rainfall figures are clear. Colombo received approximately 129 millimetres within a few hours. Some locations recorded more than 100 millimetres in under an hour, and Thimbirigasyaya recorded 146.6 millimetres over twelve hours. The city’s drainage infrastructure was designed for roughly 30 millimetres. The result was widespread inundation of roads in areas including Maradana, Borella and Bambalapitiya, severe traffic congestion, and flooding at the National Hospital. Sections of the Accident and Emergency Department, outpatient areas, radiology, operating theatres and wards were affected; lifts became inoperative; and staff had to manage patient movement under difficult conditions. Reports linked the hospital flooding in part to the condition of the Norris Canal, unauthorised constructions along its banks, and waste disposal practices. These are long-standing issues that have been noted on previous occasions.
The impact extended well beyond vehicles.
Ordinary citizens trying to reach their homes for the weekend found routes blocked or impassable. At the same time, the weather system caused direct disruption to railway traffic. Services came to a standstill in affected sections, leaving passengers on trains for hours. These difficulties occurred against a background in which adverse weather had already been indicated by developments in the Bay of Bengal. The public does not expect perfect conditions in every circumstance. Most people understand the country’s economic constraints and accept that daily affairs will run at a minimum standard of reliability rather than at an ideal maximum.
Social Media, Frustration and the End of the Old Mindset.
What the public no longer accepts is the assumption that temporary disruption will simply be forgotten within a week. That older habit of mind is no longer reliable. Social media now supplies first-hand, real-time information and visual evidence before official explanations or remedies reach the public. The discussion that followed Friday’s events was largely characterised by frustration rather than aggression. People wanted the authorities to be proactive rather than reactive, and they were unconvinced by explanations that appeared to treat known vulnerabilities as unexpected surprises.
Citizens are influenced by what they see and share online. They do not wish to appear ignorant of available forecasts, technology or documented infrastructure weaknesses. Most continue to tolerate shortcomings because they have no practical alternatives and must depend on policymakers for basic services. That dependence is not unlimited. When authorities fail to deliver a minimum standard of resilience, the consequences are visible in many countries: erosion of public confidence, reduced legitimacy, and eventual pressure for change. Sri Lankan institutions would be wise to treat this as a clear warning rather than as temporary noise. The warning is not partisan. It applies to any authority responsible for urban management, transport, health infrastructure and disaster preparedness.
Ongoing Works and the Cost of Delay.
Major drainage and sewerage works are under way in the Kirulapone and Kirula–Narahenpita areas, involving substantial investment and producing prolonged traffic congestion, particularly around Baseline Road and Narahenpita. Officials have cited the complexity of identifying existing underground utilities as a cause of delay. Timelines for full completion stretch into 2027 and 2028. While the long-term necessity of these works is recognised, their slow pace continues to impose daily costs on movement and productivity. Canal-cleaning directives issued earlier in October, calling for completion within two weeks ahead of expected heavier rain, did not prevent the problems that materialised on 6 November. These facts are not offered as accusations against any individual or party. They are observations about the performance of systems that the public must use every day.
From Reactive Meetings to Continuous Management.
The pattern remains largely reactive. A special high-level meeting chaired by the Mayor on 7 November, involving the Colombo Municipal Council and representatives of the police, tri-forces, divisional secretariats, the Governor’s office, the Sri Lanka Land Development Corporation and the Urban Development Authority, is the standard institutional response. It focuses on immediate interventions and longer-term drainage solutions. Such coordination is necessary after an event, yet it does not address why known design limitations, maintenance shortfalls, construction delays and forecastable weather systems continue to produce repeated immobilisation. Modern forecasting, satellite data, sensors, real-time monitoring and integrated early-warning platforms already make many of these events visualizable in advance. Sri Lanka has pilots and announced systems, including anticipatory-action platforms, planned sensor-and-SMS flood warnings for Colombo, and international support for improved forecasting and resilience work on the lower Kelani basin. Local innovation also exists. The principal constraint appears to be institutional habit: the continued tendency to treat vulnerabilities as surprises rather than as permanent operational risks requiring continuous management.
A shift toward proactive standards would require practical changes that can be pursued without prejudice to any particular political authority. Drainage design capacity needs to be updated to reflect observed rainfall intensities rather than the outdated 30-millimetre benchmark. Canal and drain maintenance should move from episodic directives to scheduled, audited, year-round practice, with clear accountability for encroachments and illegal dumping. Critical sites such as the National Hospital require dedicated resilience measures that are tested before the next heavy rain. Major construction projects need tighter timelines, better traffic mitigation and transparent communication so that interim disruption is minimised. Railway and road networks should incorporate weather-linked contingency protocols so that commuters are not left stranded for hours when Bay of Bengal systems are already developing. Predictive modelling should be linked to pre-positioned resources, public alerts and inter-agency drills, not merely to post-event meetings.
The observations in this column arise directly from the events of Friday and from the public discussion that followed on social media. They are offered in a spirit that is assertive about the need for improvement yet measured and diplomatic in its address to the authorities. The public is prepared to accept the constraints of the present economic situation. It is not prepared to accept repeated failure to apply available knowledge and technology in advance of known risks. The contrast between carefully staged promotional activity and a capital brought close to a standstill, roads flooded, hospital compromised, trains halted, people unable to reach home, is not merely ironic. It is a practical measure of the distance still to be closed.
Both promotion and infrastructure are required. What is no longer sustainable is the assumption that promotional success, or public patience, can rest on systems that fail under rainfall intensities the country already experiences and that social media will document in real time. The meeting of 7 November can address the immediate water. Building the capacity and discipline that reduce the likelihood of the next standstill requires a different pace and a different mindset, one that recognises that the old expectation of issues being forgotten within a week has itself come to an end. Authorities that act on this warning in good time will strengthen both the resilience of the city and the confidence of the citizens who depend on it.
( This analysis is offered in the interest of national security, institutional reform and public safety)
The writer is a retired Senior Superintendent of Police, former head of the counter terrorism desk at the state intelligence service, a former member of the Sri Lanka Wakfs Board, and the author of “Security Beyond Enforcement: Practical Approaches for a Safer Nation” (2026). [email protected]
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