Sri Lanka identity must grow from its own history and geography, Patrick Mendis argues, rejecting imitation and imported development models.
Sri Lanka identity must grow from the island’s own history, geography and civilisation rather than imitate richer nations, according to Sri Lankan-American academic and strategist Patrick Mendis.
What does it truly mean for a nation to have an identity of its own? Can a small state survive by copying larger or wealthier countries? Or does imitation eventually become a strategic weakness?
Is geopolitics simply about economics, military power and diplomacy? Or do deeper forces drive it, including history, philosophy, religion, memory and civilisation?
And if the world is entering an age shaped by competing civilisational visions rather than ideological blocs, where exactly does Sri Lanka stand?
These questions formed the foundation of an extensive conversation that challenged many assumptions behind contemporary political debate. Instead of discussing policy in isolation, the conversation moved across history, geography, philosophy, personal experience and international strategy.
It connected subjects as varied as Antarctica, American politics, Chinese statecraft, Buddhist philosophy, Sri Lanka’s hydraulic civilisation and the psychology of leadership.
Patrick Mendis is a Sri Lankan-American academic, policy adviser, strategist and author. His work spans international relations, diplomacy, comparative civilisation and geopolitics.
Throughout a career across universities, governments, international organisations and policy institutions, Mendis has written extensively about American foreign policy and China’s global rise. His work also examines strategic competition in the Indo-Pacific, Sri Lanka’s geopolitical importance, and the relationship between culture and statecraft.
His publications include numerous books and hundreds of articles exploring the evolution of global power. Meanwhile, his professional life has combined academic scholarship with public policy and diplomacy.
Mendis has travelled to more than 157 countries, all 50 American states, every province of China and every district of Sri Lanka. As a result, he frequently draws from personal observation rather than theoretical abstraction.
We recently sat down with him in Colombo for an extensive conversation that crossed continents and centuries. What emerged was a worldview that consistently rejects narrow disciplinary thinking in favour of integrated civilisational analysis.
From Antarctica to a New Global Contest
The conversation began not in Sri Lanka, but in Antarctica.
Patrick Mendis explained that his most recent journey came from a desire to understand China’s expanding geopolitical footprint in Latin America and the Southern Hemisphere.
“Late last year we wanted to learn more about Chinese influence in Latin America and especially in Antarctica,” he explained.
“Antarctica is a global balancer in the climate change and also all the weather pattern in Africa, Latin America, everything that’s happening in the oceans is impacted by the North Pole and the South Pole.”
His journey took him through Panama, Ecuador, Peru, Chile and Argentina before he eventually reached Antarctica.
Throughout the journey, Mendis observed what he saw as a striking contrast between Chinese and American engagement.
“America is nowhere to be found compared to what the Chinese investments are,” he remarked.
For Mendis, the most visible symbol of this transformation was not military deployment. Instead, it was scientific infrastructure.
“China is there now. Now they have the most sophisticated scientific laboratories.”
Mendis argues that Antarctica should not simply be viewed as a frozen wilderness reserved for scientific curiosity. Instead, it has become one of the strategic frontiers through which countries will increasingly exercise future global influence.
During his visit, he observed permanent research stations operating throughout the year. Scientists, medical personnel and administrators from numerous countries staffed these facilities.
The laboratories conduct atmospheric research, climate science, oceanography and biological studies. Researchers also study the effects of extreme environmental conditions on human health.
In Mendis’ interpretation, scientific presence and geopolitical positioning cannot easily be separated.
China’s activities attracted particular attention from him.
According to Mendis, “China has more laboratories than Americans,” while another facility is already under construction.
“It’s just like outer space kind of thing,” he observed, describing the technological sophistication of the newest Chinese installations.
Many countries maintain Antarctic research stations partly because of their geographical proximity to the continent. However, Mendis sees China’s growing presence as evidence of a much longer strategic vision. In his view, that vision extends well beyond immediate scientific interests.
China’s Rise as a Civilisational Project
The discussion naturally expanded from Antarctica to China’s broader global trajectory.
Patrick Mendis invoked the famous observation attributed to Napoleon Bonaparte: “Let China sleep. When she wakes up, it’s going to shake the world.”
Whether Napoleon actually used those exact words matters less than what Mendis believes the statement now represents.
“This is what is happening,” he said.
For centuries, China experienced what Chinese historians call the “hundred years of humiliation”. The period involved foreign intervention, internal weakness and imperial decline.
Today’s China, according to Mendis, sees itself as reversing that historical interruption. It does not necessarily view itself as building an entirely new order.
He argues that this historical consciousness explains much of China’s contemporary behaviour.
“They are wanting to bring their own glory back. Rejuvenation of the Chinese nation, Chinese culture.”
Rather than measuring China’s rise only through trade statistics or military spending, Mendis views it as a civilisational project. He believes memory and philosophical continuity sit deep within that project.
China’s governance model also differs fundamentally from many Western political systems, he argues.
“They are very, very deliberate,” Mendis observed.
Unlike governments driven by rapid electoral cycles or constant public confrontation, he sees Chinese decision-making as shaped by long-term planning and internal deliberation.
Drawing from his experience teaching at 27 Chinese universities and academies, Mendis described a policy process that largely develops away from public view.
“They have intra-democracy inside. They have all the ideas, professors, intellectuals, they talk about debate and they make the policies. When you come to the top, put the seal, it’s a policy. They don’t have a debate in the parliament. Nothing. It’s a show. Chinese don’t show things. That’s why they are quiet.”
Mendis does not claim the system is perfect. Instead, he contrasts it with what he considers increasingly reactive decision-making elsewhere.
“Unlike some presidents tweet here and change his mind ten minutes later… Chinese are very deliberate.”
For Mendis, the distinction is not simply ideological. It also comes from political culture and institutional temperament.
Philosophy Beneath Chinese Statecraft
Patrick Mendis argues that economics alone cannot explain the foundations of Chinese statecraft.
Instead, he sees a combination of philosophical traditions accumulated across centuries.
“They think they are Confucian ethics and Confucian Daoism and Buddhism,” he explained.
Rather than separating religion and philosophy from governance, Mendis sees them as deeply embedded within China’s strategic thinking.
In his interpretation, Buddhism, Confucianism and Daoism do more than shape personal belief. They also contribute to the Chinese state’s approach to patience, continuity and long-term planning.
This civilisational perspective explains why Mendis rejects simplistic descriptions of China as merely a communist power.
Political ideology, he argues, represents only one layer of a far deeper historical identity. The philosophical inheritance remains visible beneath the modern state.
“They have all the best of the three philosophies there.”
For Mendis, Sri Lanka occupies an unexpectedly important position within this wider Asian history.
Long before modern geopolitical competition, the island served as a connecting point between the Roman Empire, India and imperial China.
He recalled the journeys of Buddhist monks such as Faxian and later exchanges associated with Xuanzang. He also referred to Admiral Zheng He’s voyages and the broader commercial networks connecting Marco Polo’s travels with the Yuan Dynasty.
Mendis does not present these historical references simply as interesting anecdotes. Instead, he uses them to argue that Sri Lanka has consistently underestimated its own civilisational importance.
“We underestimate,” he reflected. “When you have a huge ruby or the sapphire… you don’t know the value.”
For Mendis, that neglected inheritance is not merely geographical. It is also spiritual.
Buddhism, he argues, should not be reduced to ritual or identity politics. Instead, it represents one of Sri Lanka’s greatest strategic assets.
“We are living on this treasured Buddhist teaching,” he observed.
At the same time, he lamented that contemporary society often remains only “nominally Buddhist.”
Sri Lanka Identity Cannot Be Borrowed
It is from this historical perspective that Patrick Mendis reaches the central argument running through the conversation.
Sri Lanka, he insists, must stop imagining that national success depends on becoming another country.
For decades, Sri Lankan political discourse has repeatedly compared the island with Singapore, Malaysia and other development models. Mendis rejects this entire way of thinking.
Sri Lanka should not aspire to become somebody else, he argues. Such comparisons ignore the island’s own geography, history, culture and civilisational experience.
Every country possesses its own strategic logic. Borrowing another nation’s identity creates confusion rather than development.
Instead, Patrick Mendis offers a completely different metaphor.
“You should be a Mahaveli River.”
The metaphor becomes the pivot of his argument.
Mendis does not present it as poetry for effect. Instead, it is a structural claim about how small states can survive in a world shaped by competing civilisational forces.
In his framing, Sri Lanka’s recurring mistake does not come from a lack of talent or geography. It comes from imitation.
The country repeatedly attempts to stabilise its identity by borrowing external models instead of developing internal coherence.
Mendis insists that Sri Lanka cannot function as a copy of Singapore, Malaysia or any other developmental reference point frequently used in political debate.
His argument is direct.
“Sri Lanka should be Sri Lanka despite imagining to become someone else which is continuous delusion and unmatched and unsuitable comparison.”
In this reading, imitation is not simply neutral policy borrowing. It is conceptual disorientation.
The Mahaveli Doctrine and Strategic Flexibility
The alternative, according to Mendis, is fluidity.
The Mahaveli River is not simply a romantic symbol. It represents a governing logic. The river moves, adapts and connects regions. It never remains fixed in one form.
Patrick Mendis extends the metaphor into what he effectively describes as a strategic framework.
“You need to have our Mahaveli doctrine.”
He presents this as a way of thinking about sovereignty rooted in geography, water systems and historical connectivity. It stands in contrast to imported administrative templates.
To explain the concept, Mendis moves into a biological analogy.
Threat and opportunity are not opposites, he argues. Instead, they are necessary dual forces.
“You have a white cell and a red cell blood… you need to have both of them in your blood system to work.”
In the same way, small states cannot survive by eliminating tension or attempting to sterilise their environment. They must learn to operate within contradiction.
Mendis extends the analogy further.
“If you want to be a Sri Lankan, try to be water.”
Water, in his formulation, is not passive. It is an adaptive force.
Sri Lanka’s foreign policy, under this logic, should not depend on rigid alignment. Instead, it should move.
Fixed positioning creates vulnerability in a fluid global order. Water does not resist pressure from only one direction. It finds pathways around obstacles.
The Mahaveli River therefore becomes a national metaphor for strategic flexibility rather than ideological rigidity.
A Hydraulic Civilisation That Looked Outward
Patrick Mendis reinforces his argument through historical memory.
He repeatedly returns to Sri Lanka’s hydraulic civilisation, including its reservoirs, canals, rivers and engineered water systems.
“We have 103 rivers and around us water,” he notes, connecting geography with governance.
Mendis does not invoke ancient rulers merely through nostalgia. He presents them as evidence of integrated statecraft.
King Parakramabahu is central to this interpretation.
Mendis describes a civilisation that looked outward and maintained commercial connections rather than remaining isolated.
“King Parakambahu sent rice to Chinese to feed. King Parakambahu sent the elephants from the Mantai.”
He uses these references to argue that Sri Lanka historically operated within broader Eurasian and maritime networks. The island was not a closed cultural unit.
Within the same historical framework, he refers to ports such as Mantai and China Bay. He also discusses canal systems that later became part of colonial infrastructure, including the Hamilton Canal.
The point is not simply antiquarian detail. It is continuity.
Sri Lanka’s geography, in Mendis’ reading, has always positioned the island as a connector rather than an isolate.
This leads into a wider argument about identity itself.
Mendis rejects the view that Sri Lanka consists of rigid and completely separate civilisational groups. Instead, he describes identity as historically blended through migration, conquest and integration.
In his interpretation, claims of absolute separation between communities do not withstand historical scrutiny.
Civilisation, he argues, is layered rather than segmented.
Economic Bankruptcy Reveals a Moral Crisis
The conversation then moves from history into contemporary governance.
Sri Lanka’s deeper crisis, Patrick Mendis argues, is not merely economic. It is also moral and intellectual.
“When a country is economically bankrupt what we could see is the depth of this moral bankruptcy also in the society.”
The implication is clear. Financial collapse is a symptom rather than the root condition.
At the centre of that condition, according to Mendis, is the prioritisation of private gain over collective stability.
“You put the personal interest before the national interest,” he states.
He identifies this as a structural failure rather than simply an individual character flaw. Mendis also extends the diagnosis to other political systems, including the United States, where he sees similar dynamics.
He warns that inequality intensifies when political systems serve concentrated interests.
“Only few people become rich at the expense of the rest of the people.”
Within this framework, economic disparity does not occur by accident. It emerges from systemic incentives.
Leadership itself then becomes part of the criticism.
Mendis argues that material accumulation does not necessarily correspond with intellectual expansion. Instead, he describes a reversal.
“Their head is becoming bigger… mind becoming smaller.”
The suggestion is that status and intellectual clarity can often move in opposite directions.
Why Narrow Expertise Is Not Enough
Patrick Mendis extends his criticism into institutions of expertise.
Specialisation is necessary, he accepts. However, it can also fragment understanding.
“If you are an economist, he only knows about microeconomic and macroeconomic… so you need to know a lot of things in a buffet.”
Mendis argues for integrated thinking rather than isolated expertise.
His preferred approach brings history, politics, geography, philosophy and economics into one analytical framework.
That approach is visible throughout the conversation. Antarctica cannot be understood only through climate science. China cannot be understood only through communism or trade statistics. Sri Lanka cannot be understood only through economic indicators.
In each case, Mendis moves between civilisation, geography, memory and power.
His own biography becomes an illustration rather than an ornament.
Mendis grew up in rural Polonnaruwa, working with water buffaloes and agricultural land. He was later selected through the American Field Service programme and travelled to the United States without English fluency.
“I was not speaking a single word in English,” he recalls.
His story moves across radically different worlds. Yet he emphasises adaptation, rather than privilege, as the mechanism behind that transition.
That experience also reinforces his wider argument. Movement does not require abandoning identity. Adaptation does not have to mean imitation.
Be the River, Not the Frog in the Well
The conclusion returns to the central metaphor of the river.
For Patrick Mendis, identity is not a static possession. It is continuous movement.
“You can stay like a frog in the same well then thinking you know everything,” he says, “or you can be a Mahaveli river.”
The contrast is between enclosure and flow. It is also a choice between certainty and adaptation.
The argument does not end with a conventional policy prescription. Instead, it ends with a philosophical position.
“Everything is transitory,” Mendis notes. “There is nothing permanent.”
In that sense, governance is not the art of freezing identity. It is the ability to manage change without collapse.
That may also be the deeper challenge surrounding Sri Lanka identity. The country does not need to become Singapore, China, Malaysia or any other national reference point. Nor does it need to reject outside knowledge simply to prove its independence.
The argument Patrick Mendis presents is different. Sri Lanka must understand the strategic value of what it already possesses. Its geography, hydraulic civilisation, maritime history, philosophical inheritance and ability to connect competing worlds are not weaknesses to overcome.
They are foundations on which to build.
In a world where great powers increasingly compete through economics, technology, infrastructure and civilisational narratives, imitation may offer temporary comfort. But borrowed identities cannot provide permanent direction.
Sri Lanka, in this interpretation, needs to remain Sri Lanka. It must do so fully, deliberately and without imitation.
SOURCE:- SRI LANKA GUARDIAN
