by Our Defence Affairs Correspondent in Colombo
Who is truly behind the orchestrated removal of General Shavendra Silva, a four-star General and one of Sri Lanka’s most decorated military leaders? What shadowy forces are covertly manipulating the country’s defence structure at a time when national stability teeters on the precipice of chaos? And why does the office of the Chief of Defence Staff (CDS), a critical pillar of Sri Lanka’s national security framework, now stand on the brink of annihilation? These are not questions to be dismissed with empty rhetoric, but rather, queries that demand substantive answers. Yet, what we are faced with is not clarity, but a fog of evasions and half-truths.
The unfolding drama surrounding General Silva’s abrupt ‘discontinuation’ and the looming dissolution of the CDS role reeks of a deeply sinister conspiracy, one that, in the words of Niccolò Machiavelli, seeks to “weaken the hands that have kept the state intact.” Unlike past transitions, which—albeit contentious—maintained a veneer of decorum, today’s scenario speaks volumes of an orchestrated neglect, a deliberate undermining of the very institutions that sustain national security. What makes this even more unnerving is the eerie silence from the Commander-in-Chief, a leader who appears not merely disengaged but almost disinterested in fulfilling the most basic of administrative duties—like the handing over of appointment letters to new appointees. Traditionally, it was the President who personally entrusted these letters to those selected to command the tri-forces and the police. Yet, in this unprecedented moment, we witness the President’s secretary performing these crucial duties. Nothing against the secretary, but the optics are unsettling, revealing a deeper malaise within the corridors of power. This is not a simple procedural lapse; it is a symptom of a much larger, more insidious rot.
General Shavendra Silva’s meteoric rise and dramatic fall reflect a broader narrative, one that intertwines military prowess with moral ambiguity. For 41 years, Silva served with distinction, earning both accolades and scorn in equal measure. His leadership as the General Officer Commanding the 58th Division during the final stages of the Sri Lankan Civil War became emblematic of military success. Yet, as Voltaire once warned, “All is well, provided you do not look too closely.” Silva’s military triumph, while undeniably significant, came at a tremendous cost—his name became a lightning rod for accusations of unproven human rights abuses, his every action scrutinised, his conduct selectively targeted and maliciously manipulated. The U.S., in its infinite wisdom, imposed sanctions on him in 2020, citing alleged war crimes as justification. Was this truly the reason for his fall from grace, or was it merely a convenient pretext in a much larger geopolitical chess game?
The Aragalaya protests further illuminate the political labyrinth in which General Silva’s career became entangled. As public demonstrations consumed the nation, Silva faced a unique test of leadership. Tasked with maintaining order amidst the chaos, the General’s decision to exercise restraint and avoid unnecessary bloodshed was both praised and condemned. “I do not wish to be a crazed mass murderer with official authority against unarmed people,” he stated—a line that would have done honour to any leader who values moral clarity. Yet, this very restraint may have made him a target for those who demanded a more brutal crackdown. Who were these voices? And are they the same ones now celebrating his removal?
It is impossible to ignore the spectre of foreign influence that looms large in this saga. The United States, wielding its geopolitical clout, imposed sanctions on Silva, citing war crimes as the basis for their actions. However, the timing and context of these sanctions suggest a far more calculated motive—one that seeks to shape the future trajectory of Sri Lanka’s defence and security architecture. Sri Lanka, situated at a strategic crossroads of global maritime trade routes, has long been a pawn in the geopolitical games of superpowers. In targeting Silva—one of the few remaining symbols of Sri Lankan military strength—was the intention to destabilise the country’s defence establishment, to sow discord and weaken its military cohesion? If so, this strategy is proving effective.
But the potential dismantling of the CDS role adds yet another dimension to this unfolding drama. Established to ensure seamless coordination between the Army, Navy, and Air Force, the CDS is not just an administrative position; it is the very linchpin that holds Sri Lanka’s defence apparatus together. To remove this role is not merely a bureaucratic misstep—it is a strategic blunder, one that risks the very security of the nation. Who stands to gain from a fragmented military, where disunity reigns and command becomes fractured? Is this part of a deliberate effort to weaken Sri Lanka’s defences, or is it simply the result of short-sighted political manoeuvring? Only time will tell, but the stakes could not be higher.
The political backdrop of this crisis adds another layer of complexity to the situation. The Aragalaya protests were not simply a manifestation of public frustration; they were the stage for deeper political manoeuvres, with rival factions seeking to capitalise on the chaos. Foreign powers, particularly those with vested interests in Sri Lanka’s internal affairs, have long had a hand in influencing the course of events. During the protests, political headquarters in Pelawatta and even the residence of the Speaker of Parliament became de facto meeting places for foreign diplomats, including those from the U.S. embassy. The military’s restrained response to these incidents was lambasted by some as a sign of weakness, while others saw it as evidence of external political interference. Were elements within the political establishment deliberately weakening the military’s authority to further their own agendas? And now, are these same elements dismantling the CDS role as part of a broader scheme to consolidate political power?
Traditionally, the head of state has played a pivotal role in overseeing the defence establishment, ensuring its coherence and strength. Yet, today, there is a conspicuous disengagement. The Commander-in-Chief’s indifference raises unsettling questions about his commitment to national security. Is this a calculated distancing from a controversial figure like General Silva, or does it reflect a deeper malaise within the political leadership? Either way, the ramifications for the country’s security are dire. “A nation that does not care for its own defence,” as Thucydides observed, “will soon find itself subject to the will of others.”
The erosion of public trust in the military is another deeply concerning consequence of this debacle. For decades, Sri Lanka’s military was seen as a steadfast guardian of national security, a bulwark against both internal insurgencies and external threats. Yet, with the mistreatment of figures like Silva and the looming dismantling of the CDS role, this perception is in jeopardy. If the public begins to view the military as a mere pawn in the political game, rather than the guardian of national sovereignty, the very fabric of social cohesion will be threatened.
The broader geopolitical context must also be considered. Sri Lanka’s strategic location, wedged between the Indian Ocean and major international trade routes, has always made it an object of desire for global powers. Whether it is China’s Belt and Road Initiative, India’s regional ambitions, or the U.S.’s Indo-Pacific strategy, the island nation finds itself at the centre of a high-stakes geopolitical contest. Weakening the country’s military defences serves the interests of those who seek to extend their influence over Sri Lanka. Is the dismantling of the CDS role and the sidelining of General Silva part of a broader plot to render the country more susceptible to external pressures? If so, the nation’s leadership is complicit in its own disempowerment.
These questions are not rhetorical. They are urgent, pressing inquiries that demand immediate answers. Why was General Silva’s career so abruptly cut short? What role did foreign powers play in shaping his downfall? Why is the CDS, a critical component of military coordination, being eliminated at a time when national security is more precarious than ever? Who stands to gain from a weakened and divided military? And why has the Commander-in-Chief remained silent in the face of such monumental developments?
These are the questions that will determine not only the fate of one man or one institution but the very future of the nation itself. In times of crisis, leadership matters. But what Sri Lanka is witnessing today is a leadership vacuum—one characterised by indecision, short-term political calculations, and a blatant disregard for the long-term welfare of the nation. This is not simply a failure of governance; it is a betrayal of the very people whose security and sovereignty are at stake.
As Sri Lanka stands at this critical juncture, it must ask itself: what kind of nation does it want to be? Will it succumb to foreign manipulation and internal division, or will it rise above these challenges and chart a course toward stability and self-determination? The answers to these questions will define the nation’s destiny.
The saga of General Silva and the CDS role is more than just the story of one man or one institution. It is a reflection of a nation at a crossroads, facing unprecedented challenges that demand the kind of leadership, vision, and integrity that history demands. The stakes could not be higher, and the time to act is now. The question is, who will step up to lead, and will it be too late when they do?
