Global politics is moving in an increasingly unpredictable direction, unlike anything witnessed in recent decades. What the Institute for Economics and Peace has described as an era of “Great Fragmentation” appears to capture the current state of the international system. Policy shifts undertaken by the United States during President Donald Trump’s second term have further unsettled the global outlook, raising fundamental questions about the future of alliances and partnerships that have long underpinned the international order.
Canadian prime minster Mark Carney recently captured this climate of uncertainty in a New York Times interview. He revealed that, over the past year, he had prepared for the “extreme tail risk” that President Trump might order military action against Canada. Such remarks illustrate just how dramatically the global political landscape has changed. For the first time in more than a century, Canada is contemplating how it would respond if faced with a direct threat from its closest ally and neighbour.
The broader question is what role the United States intends to play in the future international order. Is the world merely passing through a transitional phase? Or is Washington attempting to fundamentally restructure the global system? One could continue listing such questions, yet definitive answers remain elusive. What is clear is that the world is entering a period of profound uncertainty.
Equally unclear is who, if anyone will safeguard the existing global order. In this context, Professor Bari Bhushan’s observation that the world is experiencing a vacuum of leadership appears particularly relevant. Amid such geopolitical volatility, determining an appropriate foreign policy strategy for small states such as Sri Lanka has become an unprecedented challenge.
Successive governments in Colombo have traditionally articulated Sri Lanka’s foreign policy through concepts such as non-alignment, balance, and neutrality. Yet, fundamentally, this approach is perhaps better understood not as a foreign policy doctrine, but as a survival strategy. At its core lies the objective of maintaining productive relations with all major powers while avoiding entanglement in their rivalries and confrontations.
Historically, Sri Lanka has generally managed its foreign relations in a manner designed to avoid becoming caught in competition among great powers. However, this has never been an easy task. It is akin to walking a geopolitical tightrope, where even a single misstep can carry serious consequences.
This is because the popular notion that small states enjoy complete strategic autonomy is not entirely realistic. Regardless of how strongly small nations emphasise sovereignty, the reality is that when they are caught in the midst of geopolitical competition, their room for manoeuvre becomes severely constrained. In such circumstances, sovereignty often exists more in principle than in practice.
Modern Sri Lanka has experienced this reality on at least two occasions. In 1977, J.R. Jayewardene sought to move away from the country’s traditional non-aligned orientation and pursue a more pro-Western foreign policy. This shift generated unease in India and provoked a firm response from New Delhi. Colombo soon discovered the costs of attempting to downgrade India’s importance without fully appreciating the realities of Cold War geopolitics.
A similar miscalculation emerged during the presidency of Mahinda Rajapaksa. By largely disregarding the concerns of both India and the United States while pursuing an increasingly China-centric approach, Sri Lanka found itself drawn into the vortex of great-power rivalry. Both episodes demonstrate the limitations faced by small states when navigating the competing interests of larger powers.
Against this backdrop, what foreign policy approach should Sri Lanka, India’s closest maritime neighbour, adopt to safeguard its future interests?
President Anura Kumara Dissanayake has stated that Sri Lanka does not wish to become “a sandwich between India and China.” This is a legitimate aspiration, and any sovereign nation has the right to hold such a position. However, the issue must be examined through a more fundamental lens: can India and China truly be regarded as parallel partners for Sri Lanka?
Recently, I had the opportunity to listen to former Maldivian President Mohamed Nasheed while participating as a speaker at the Bay of Bengal Conversation 2026, held in Dhaka from 3 to 5 October. Nasheed addressed the forum, organised annually by the Centre for Governance Studies, Bangladesh’s leading think tank. He spoke at a session titled “The New Strategic Middle.”
Prior to the event, my understanding of Nasheed’s foreign policy thinking was limited. However, after listening to his remarks, I was struck by the clarity of his vision regarding how small states should navigate geopolitical competition. I had previously written about similar ideas, but hearing them articulated by a former president who had directly confronted these challenges made them particularly compelling.
Nasheed’s central argument was straightforward. The Maldives, he argued, has always understood India as its most important neighbour, and therefore Maldivian foreign policy must begin with that reality.
“We have greater rivalry in the Indian Ocean again, with big powers wanting to establish a foothold. We have always understood India as our biggest neighbour. We have always had a foreign policy that places India first. If we try to disrupt that, it might be difficult for us to maintain our sovereignty.
When the question of strategic partnership or strategic dependence is raised, everything must begin with our own interests. If we decide to partner with Germany or France instead of closer partnership with India, would that help us? I doubt it.”
Attempting to bypass India in pursuit of alternative partnerships, Nasheed suggested, would not strengthen sovereignty but could ultimately undermine it. His view was that strategic choices should be judged primarily on whether they serve a nation’s long-term interests rather than on abstract notions of diplomatic flexibility.
Nasheed was equally sceptical of the relevance of traditional non-alignment in today’s geopolitical environment. During the Cold War, countries sought to position themselves between two competing power blocs. Today’s world, he argued, is fundamentally different. While many describe the contemporary international system as multipolar, the realities confronting small states remain unforgiving.
“Now we are seeing a world order that people call multipolar. In my mind, it is different. Non-alignment is very difficult. If you really need to find a friend, be good to your friend. Do not try to play your friend against others.
I am not a non-alignment person. I believe there should be alignment in your ideology and in the way you want to develop your country. I would not go for non-alignment.”
Listening to these remarks, I felt that Sri Lanka’s political leadership has much to learn from Mohamed Nasheed’s approach.
Under conditions of what is increasingly described as the “Great Fragmentation,” Sri Lanka’s geographic proximity to India should be viewed as a strategic advantage rather than a liability. Properly managed, this strategic reality could help transform Sri Lanka into a prosperous and stable nation. Equally, it could become a strategic vulnerability if Colombo mismanages its external relations.
Against this backdrop, Nasheed’s argument offers an important lesson. Rather than relying on the rhetoric of non-alignment and neutrality, Sri Lanka should recognise why an “India First” approach remains essential to its long-term interests. For small states located within the sphere of influence of major regional powers, foreign policy cannot be built on slogans of sovereignty and strategic autonomy alone. Geography and power remain decisive factors.
Sri Lanka’s own history demonstrates the costs of ignoring this reality. The question facing Colombo today is not whether geography matters, but whether its leaders are prepared to shape their foreign policy around it.
Sri Lanka cannot change its location, nor can it escape the realities of power. The real question is whether its leaders have the wisdom to recognise that an “India First” policy is not a matter of preference, but one of strategic necessity.
