Given recent media reports, mostly Indian, marine science research appears to have become a hot topic yet again. Whilst debates linger over this, it is important to understand these issues from a Sri Lankan point of view because the Sri Lankan point of view is often refracted through a Western or an Indian lens. Our voice appears not to be strong enough, and it stands to be ignored.
For an island State like us, marine science research remains a vital necessity, which has a direct impact on grand strategic objectives. To fully appreciate this, it is imperative that we have what is called “maritime affinity”, from the top leadership down to high officials and to the academia. Our oceans are our first and final frontier. How we want to utilise this oceanic space for our growth and our geostrategic survival therefore needs to be understood by statesmen, political officials, and scholars. In Sri Lanka however, there appears to be a lack of understanding regarding this, and as a result we almost always end up in the same hotspot.
The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), which we signed on 10 December 1982, and ratified on 19 July 1994, gives us a clear enough mandate to exercise our rights within our maritime jurisdiction. Marine science research is a national necessity and when the State does not invest in it, someone else will be bound to. The Seabed 2030 initiative of the General Bathymetric Chart of the Oceans - Nippon Foundation is such an exercise where the State is responsible to fulfil its obligations in line with the UN Sustainable Development Goals.
Moreover, Part XIII of the UNCLOS covers coastal State rights, which more or less empowers us to have the say on our own needs. Given that the maritime sphere is a global concern, there is no need to be defensive about these initiatives. Sri Lanka is a vital component of any research into the maritime domain in the Northern region of the Indian Ocean. It is high time that we worked in a way that enabled our location to benefit us.
Sri Lanka lacked scientific research in her own maritime domain until Norway came from 1978 to 1980 with the Fridtjof Nansen survey. Once the Norwegians understood the potential of our oceanic space, they established two agencies: the Norwegian Agency for Development Cooperation and the Cey-Nor Foundation. In doing so, they found the ideal partner for their long term strategic goals, the Tamil fishing community. I will leave the rest for you to decipher, especially with regard to Norway’s intervention in the three decade long separatist terrorism, including its decision to invest time and effort in a non-State actor, and a separatist outfit at that. In any case, this episode serves as a good example of how far marine science research can go if leaders lack maritime affinity.
The problem today is our policies, or the virtual absence of them. No one seems interested in understanding or learning about marine science research. Sri Lanka tends to be treated as a “pressure based decision maker” and not a “policy based decision maker”, given our past handling of matters in these domains. Our actions invariably become a concern to India, and the Indian media complicates matters for our decision makers.
How then are we to handle these dilemmas and problems? First and foremost, irrespective of nationality or the flag of the vessel, if the research vessel is engaged in partnership with Sri Lanka’s entity for the betterment of the island or for the common good of the world, in line with the provisions of the UNCLOS, there is no reason not to support it. We need to be an active partner from the planning to execution in such endeavours.
Marine science research tends to be planned years ahead, and it involves a number of activities, from diplomacy to logistics. These processes are informed to the relevant stakeholders in advance. That gives us ample time to engage anyone for marine science research within our maritime jurisdiction. For instance, if a vessel is making a call for operational or logistic turnarounds at our ports, advance notice will always be given. Once the rules and regulations for these vessels are communicated, these vessels must then abide by them.
Research vessels or warships which traverse the oceans collect marine data as a routine navigational and operational procedure. In 1995, I underwent my Category B Hydrography training at the National Hydrographic School of the Indian Navy in Vasco da Gama, Goa. My course senior sailor was a chief petty officer with over 15 years of experience as a survey recorder. He was pulled out from the school for a month to go onboard an Indian naval vessel, which was undertaking the maiden port visit to Israel.
After his return, he shared his experience and even taught us how to verify the accuracies of the nautical charts, especially the depths, isobaths, and the details of the tides, using onboard instruments like the echo sounder which all ships have in order to measure depth, the tide tables which today are swiftly being replaced by online programmes, and the anemometer which measures humidity, the wind speed, the direction, and various other observations that are relevant to naval applications as well as for marine science.
Indeed, as a routine procedure, our naval vessels which regularly visit the various regional ports and the corners of the Indian ocean, log the marine weather and assess the accuracy of electronic charts with regard to depths and currents. All these data serve a dual purpose, though the Sri Lanka Navy does not operate any submarine or aircrafts.
In that sense, it is vital that we groom our academia on how to approach these fields. Our younger generation should go to the sea and spend time there to become marine scientists. However, the question of State patronage crops up here. When the State does not support these areas, our universities come solely to depend on foreign collaborations.
The problem lies here, as mostly it is the foreign entity, either a university or a think tank, that proposes to the local university a marine science research plan, about which the local university has little knowledge. More problematically, the local university does not disclose any of these offers to the Government, fearing a loss of their foreign grant, which is attractive in comparison to the State’s allocations. As a result, in the end, whatever data that we collect gets lost.
In 2019, I was part of the team that began drafting the guideline for marine science research in Sri Lanka. Back then, the Navy was developing a marine science data repository. As the Chief Hydrographer to the Navy and the Joint Chief Hydrographer to the Government, I found that many local institutions did not have the required data with them. Needless to say, it was rather exhaustive to trace who was involved in the research, who held responsibility, and who actually possessed the data. At times, it seemed as though we were going nowhere.
The findings were alarming, particularly since there was no proper preservation of the old data that the next generation could use, and data that could be brought up for analysing long term evaluation. In the course of our futile search, several scenarios confronted us. Either the person involved was abroad or not present, the data shared happened to be untraceable in compact discs and pen drives, nobody appeared to be aware of whether the data was shared or not, or the available data were useless because the software system simply could not support them.
This was the case even with the National Hydrography Office under the National Aquatic Resources Research and Development Agency, when I was instrumental in designing a marine spatial data infrastructure (MSDI) for the country (msdi.navy.lk). The upshot of it all was that their data could not be shared because they did not have any. In any case, the data in files and cupboards were as good as no data, unless they had made good use of them. My experience in these matters has always been that if a State agency refuses to share data, it means that they don’t have the required data or that their data is of substandard quality.
These shortfalls can be addressed by having centralised control, through which we can develop marine science research that caters to the needs of our country. Sri Lanka has produced some of the world renowned marine scientists. They are willing to step in and help, provided that there is a clear aim and genuine effort to cooperate. All marine science related issues crop up because of our indecisiveness. There is no point in blaming another party.
When India becomes confident of our efforts in marine science and when they see that Sri Lanka is in control and no one else is in control of its own marine science research, many geostrategic concerns ailing the island will go away. Sri Lanka at this juncture is in dire need of a decision maker, it does not need more rules, more regulations, or more standard operating procedures. More of these are only going to restrict us and the foreign assistance and ultimately barricade us and deprive us.
If our country is to be an active partner in regional maritime affairs, we need to engage with our partners with a clear understanding and knowledge of what we are doing. This requires strong personalities who are cognisant of maritime matters. Once our domestic affairs are in order, external concerns are bound to disappear. This will create an atmosphere conducive to foreign collaborations in marine research, providing more opportunities and much needed exposure for the younger generation in Sri Lanka.
(The writer was the Chief of Staff and Chief Hydrographer of the Navy and the Joint Chief Hydrographer to the Government. He is an International Consultant for Undersea Cables for the United Nations. This article was published in Factum - a Colombo based think tank. The views expressed here are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the organisation’s)
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The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect those of this publication.