Throughout the past 500 years or so, this land we now call Sri Lanka has often been someone else’s prize. From the moment the Portuguese set foot here in the 16th century, to the Dutch who replaced them, and finally the British, colonisers found this island to be a jewel worth possessing. With only the occasional uprising and fleeting moments of rebellion, the island largely rolled over, generation after generation, as foreign powers took turns exploiting its resources, enslaving its people, and redrawing its destiny.
Today, Sri Lanka is no longer a colony in the traditional sense. No ships with flags dock to announce conquests. No treaties are signed under duress in candle-lit colonial chambers. Yet, the game of power and possession continues. Only now, it wears a suit, arrives in business class, and signs MOUs that no one is allowed to read.
There is a new wave of colonisation that is sweeping the world. Some do it brazenly, like Russia in Ukraine and Israel in Gaza, but others resort to more intricate ways. The question is, are our elected leaders politically savvy enough to identify and defy such attempts? The truth is uncomfortable but the colonisation of Sri Lanka continues. Only now, it is far more sophisticated and cloaked in legitimacy: in the name of ‘foreign investment,’ ‘bilateral ties,’ and ‘geopolitical partnership,’ the island is being sliced up, commodified, and sold – one port, one coastline, and one ‘agreement’ at a time.
For centuries, Sri Lanka has held strategic significance due to its location at the crossroads of major East-West maritime routes. Today, that geography has become a curse disguised as a blessing. Everyone wants a piece of it; not for who we are, but for where we are.
India, our neighbour, has long viewed this nation with suspicion. Historically intolerant of Sri Lanka outshining it economically or diplomatically, India has repeatedly intervened – sometimes overtly, sometimes covertly – whenever Colombo strayed too far from New Delhi’s sphere of influence. From the civil war to economic instability, the timing and nature of these ‘domestic’ crises have often been suspiciously aligned with India’s strategic interests.
Nowadays, the players have changed but the game remains the same. China, with its ambitious Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), has moved swiftly and decisively. Colombo Port City is essentially a Chinese-controlled financial zone, and Hambantota Port has been handed over for 99 years. China may not fly its flag there, but its presence is unmistakable.
India, although late to this economic scramble, is catching up. It has secured access to the West Container Terminal in Colombo, and has recently turned its attention to the strategic Trincomalee Harbour and Kankesanthurai in the north. While these moves are painted as economic partnerships, they carry a strong strategic and even military undertone.
And then, there are the others, quietly but surely carving out their own enclaves. Take for instance the Israelis in Arugam Bay: a classic case study in stealth colonisation. On Sri Lanka’s southeast coast, the picturesque beach town of Arugam Bay is undergoing a transformation. What once was a sleepy surfer haven is now a de facto Israeli enclave. Just last week, a tourist’s viral video asked the unsettling question: “Is this Sri Lanka, or Tel Aviv?”
The footage reveals a town increasingly shaped by Israeli influence; signboards in Hebrew, businesses exclusively catering to Israelis, Jewish customs openly practiced, and even reports of synagogues being quietly established. Most disturbingly, there are posters and photographs of men in uniform; soldiers taking a break from the ongoing slaughter in Gaza.
The immediate concern isn’t about religion or tourism. It’s about militarisation and intent. What appears as a hospitality-driven influx may, in fact, be a calculated move to establish a strategically significant presence. Arugam Bay is just a hop and a step from Hambantota, where China has entrenched itself. If this were a Cold War novel, this would be Chapter One. Between January and July this year, 13,014 Israelis have entered Sri Lanka as ‘tourists.’ But how many of them have left and how many now operate businesses or hold leases? Is this spontaneous tourism or silent colonisation?
Further south, Russian influence is also growing. Fuelled by the war in Ukraine and the search for stable havens, Russians and Ukrainians are flocking to Sri Lanka not just to holiday, but to settle. Real estate agents in the southern belt whisper about sudden cash purchases, entire streets turning Russian, and gated compounds being erected. Once again, it is framed as tourism or war-induced migration. It won’t be long before these foreign communities begin exerting influence in local affairs. We have seen how this script plays out elsewhere.
The United States, ever strategic, made an early attempt through the now-defunct Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC) deal. Though ultimately rejected after public outcry, it revealed Washington’s intent to secure a foothold in Trincomalee, a harbour of immense geopolitical value. That intent hasn’t disappeared. Last week’s announcement of the Trump tariff reduction from 30% to 20% may appear generous, but it raises critical questions.
The United National Party (UNP) has been the only political party thus far to ask as to what Sri Lanka has promised in return. A line buried in the Trump Executive Order offers a clue. It states that “some trading partners have agreed to, or are on the verge of agreeing to, meaningful trade and security commitments with the United States”. Since Sri Lanka would be hard-pressed to bridge its $ 2.2 billion trade deficit with the US through goods alone, what exactly has been offered? Are these ‘commitments’ economic or military?
In an era when trade has been weaponised, when food and oil are tools of diplomacy, and when debt is a means of control, even a tariff reduction cannot be viewed in isolation. Earlier this year, the National People’s Power (NPP) Government signed a Memorandum of Understanding on defence with India. To date, neither Parliament nor the public have been told what is in it. Right to Information applications have been denied. Opposition demands have been ignored. Transparency, once the NPP’s battle cry in Opposition, is now a whisper. In this context, the latest deal with the US – whatever form it takes – becomes even more concerning. Are we mortgaging our sovereignty one secret agreement at a time?
Colombo’s cocktail circuits have long speculated about foreign involvement in Sri Lanka’s recent regime change. While such claims remain in the realm of whispers and conspiracy theories, they are not implausible. In a world where coups are outsourced, elections are influenced, and narratives are engineered, regime change is no longer an act of war but a matter of strategy.
We have seen India’s influence assert itself. We now see America’s turn. And as Israel and Russia carve out their coastal havens, one is compelled to ask: who is next? And how much longer can we remain blind to this silent invasion? The Portuguese came with swords and sails. The Dutch brought trade. The British wielded both the Bible and the gun. Today, colonisation wears designer suits, speaks diplomatic English, and signs legally binding agreements no one gets to see.
But the net effect is the same. Foreign interests dominate our ports. Our lands are being bought up in chunks. Our defence policies are now secret pacts. And our sovereignty is slowly being bled out under the guise of progress and partnership. This is not a call for xenophobia, nor is it a rejection of tourism or foreign investment, but simply a demand for vigilance. For scrutiny. For transparency. For sovereignty in the truest sense of the word.
Our leaders must be held accountable. No agreement, military or trade-related, should be signed in secret. Every foreign acquisition of land, especially in sensitive areas, must be publicly disclosed. The people of Sri Lanka deserve to know who is buying their country, and why.
Sri Lanka, a nation with a proud heritage, does not need to trade its tragic recent past for a fragile future. The country cannot afford to be spectators while its sovereignty is being robbed right under its nose. The Portuguese landed here in 1505, but in 2025, are we any less colonised?