Columns

Cyclone Ditwah, which battered Sri Lanka at the end of November 2025, will cast a long shadow over the country’s landscape, economy, and collective memory. In a matter of hours, what began as an “intensifying weather disturbance” in the Bay of Bengal evolved into one of the most damaging climate events to strike the island since the 2004 tsunami.

Its significance lies not only in the scale of destruction but also in the fact that its impact reached people in almost every corner of Sri Lanka. With 22 out of 25 districts experiencing severe rainfall, flooding, landslides, or gale-force winds, the disaster became a truly national experience—felt “closer to home” than many storms before it.  

Some estimates suggest that Sri Lanka received 10per cent of its annual rainfall within the three days of the cyclone, while others place the figure as high as 25 per cent. Such a deluge overwhelmed rivers, reservoirs, irrigation channels, and urban drainage systems.

Entire villages were inundated, and road access to several rural communities have still not been fully restored.

Yet amid the tragedy, Cyclone Ditwah also brought to the forefront a deeply reassuring truth about Sri Lanka—as in past disasters, whether the 2004 tsunami, the 2010 floods, or more recent monsoon calamities, the resilience and compassion of ordinary citizens shone through. In an era when public faith has been shaken by misgovernance, corruption, and the narcotics crisis, the outpouring of empathy offered a glimpse of the country’s better spirit.

Stories from all parts of the island illustrate how quickly Sri Lankans mobilised to protect one another. Farmers used their tractors and earth-moving equipment to rescue marooned families. Youth groups transported dry rations and drinking water across flooded terrain. Temples, churches, kovils, and mosques opened their halls to displaced families within hours. Doctors and nurses volunteered for extended shifts. In some districts, residents used personal boats to ferry schoolchildren and the elderly to safety long before official teams reached the area.

As always, the armed forces, police, and government officials were central to the rescue and relief efforts. The tri-forces deployed amphibious vehicles and emergency engineering units, while police teams worked around the clock to maintain access routes and prevent looting in evacuated neighbourhoods.

But as the waters receded, political and public scrutiny intensified. The Opposition accused the government of responding too slowly and inadequately, arguing that while natural disasters cannot be prevented, their impact can be mitigated with timely decisions and superior coordination.

The Government, for its part, stood by its actions. President Anura Kumara Dissanayake delivered a detailed defence in Parliament on Friday, outlining the steps taken before, during, and after the cyclone, while also announcing a multi-phase national recovery plan to be implemented in the coming weeks.

Opinion has been divided among experts and concerned citizens regarding the government’s response to the news of the oncoming cyclone. At the heart of the debate lies a technical but crucial question: could the government have managed water levels in reservoirs more proactively to reduce downstream flooding?

Some experts argue that with early warnings of a developing cyclonic system, authorities should have begun controlled releases from major reservoirs days before the rains peaked. This, they claim, might have prevented the dramatic spillway overflows that flooded downstream villages.

However, another group of hydrologists and climate scientists counter that such early releases carry serious risks. Cyclones are notoriously unpredictable. If Ditwah had changed course—a common outcome with Indian Ocean cyclonic systems—and the anticipated rainfall had not materialised, premature water releases could have led to reservoir depletion. This in turn would have resulted in: shortages for drinking water and irrigation; disruptions in hydroelectric generation; reduced agricultural output; food scarcity; and increased reliance on imports, heightening economic vulnerability.

Given that Sri Lanka is still recovering from an economic crisis and managing its commitments under the IMF programme, any shock to food or energy systems could have triggered a fresh cycle of instability.

These divergent professional views make it difficult to establish a definitive judgement at this stage. Blaming the government for not choosing one course over the other may therefore be premature.

While much of the criticism remains inconclusive, there is one point on which many observers agree: the government’s failure to summon and activate the Disaster Management Council (DMC) early was a significant shortcoming.

President Dissanayake had summoned the DMC in August 2025 after a seven-year lapse. This lapse of seven years had occurred despite the law requiring it to be summoned every three months. The council—which includes senior officials from key ministries, the armed forces, irrigation experts, meteorological authorities, and provincial representatives—is designed to pool expertise and ensure coordinated, rapid decision-making during emergencies.

Had the DMC been activated promptly, it could have: synthesised expert assessments from multiple agencies; determined the safest approach to reservoir management; evaluated evacuation thresholds; coordinated national and provincial response units; and ensured public communication was clear, consistent, and science-based.

Its absence likely contributed to delays, mixed messaging, and siloed decision-making.

Another debated issue is a now-widely quoted statement by a meteorological department official on a television programme on November 12, where he mentioned “likely weather disruptions.” The Opposition has seized upon this as evidence of advance knowledge ignored by the government. But the comment was made in response to a question by the presenter and framed in broad, cautious terms. It was not an official forecast, nor could it reasonably be interpreted as a precise cyclone warning.

In a more structurally robust system, a dedicated Minister of Disaster Management—another position currently vacant—might have taken note of such a statement, sought clarification, and ensured heightened readiness across relevant agencies.

With the immediate danger past, Sri Lanka now faces the long, expensive task of rebuilding. Livelihoods have been disrupted in agriculture, fisheries, and informal sectors. Schools and clinics in several districts remain damaged. Flood-weakened roads and bridges must be repaired urgently to allow the economy to function normally.

President Dissanayake’s proposed recovery measures—including emergency housing assistance, rehabilitation of irrigation systems, compensation for affected farmers, and a review of reservoir management protocols—will need strong implementation. The government has also indicated its intention to establish district-level climate emergency units and upgrade early-warning systems with international technical support.

At the same time, a transparent and independent post-mortem of the government’s actions—conducted by a multi-disciplinary expert panel—is essential. Such a review could clarify: whether early water releases were feasible or too risky; whether communication among agencies broke down; why the Disaster Management Council was not activated sooner; and what institutional reforms are required to prevent such lapses in future.

Sri Lanka cannot afford to treat Cyclone Ditwah as an unavoidable tragedy of nature. It must be treated as a wake-up call that exposes the urgent need for stronger climate governance.

In the end, Cyclone Ditwah delivered two powerful messages. First, it showed once more the extraordinary humanity and courage of ordinary Sri Lankans, who unite instinctively in the face of disaster. Second, it exposed structural weaknesses in the country’s disaster-management architecture—weaknesses that require honest assessment, institutional discipline, and reform.

Nature will not wait for Sri Lanka to get its systems right. The climate is changing faster than our institutions have adapted. Now is the time for intelligent, science-driven disaster preparedness—grounded not in blame or political point-scoring, but in responsibility to human life. (javidyusuf@gmail.com)