Bait of ruble and shadow of war: Sri Lanka’s mercenary scandal

The Sri Lankan mercenary scandal exposes how economic hardship forces former soldiers into the Russia-Ukraine conflict. Brainwashed by spurious promises of high pay and Russian citizenship, hundreds paid towering fees to flesh-peddlers, some linked to retired generals. Instead of safe roles, they face frontline combat, with passports confiscated. As of early 2025, over 550 Sri Lankans were recruited, and at least 59 confirmed dead, though true figures are likely much higher. Families are left in debt and despair, exposing a critical lack of veteran support and the devastating impact of exploitation and insufficient government oversight.

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THE whispers, initially faint, swelled into a call that resonated across the leafy tea estates and bustling coastal villages of Sri Lanka. From the sun-kissed beaches of Negombo and Hikkaduwa to the historic walls of Galle to

Matara and the vibrant fishing communities of Trincomalee and Batticaloa, tales of dubious riches, expedited foreign citizenship, and a life liberated from the clutches of economic despair began to circulate. These stories offered a flickering candle of hope in a nation still reeling from an unprecedented financial crisis.

Yet, this beacon of hope came tethered to a grim, unspoken pact: fighting a war thousands of miles away, a conflict not their own. This is the dreadful journey of Sri Lankan foot soldiers, forged in the crucible of a long civil war, now transformed into reluctant mercenaries on the globalised battlefield of the Russia-Ukraine conflict—a saga steeped in deceit, desperation, and the chilling echoes of modern warfare.

In the stifling, incense-laden air of clandestine offices tucked away in Colombo’s suburbs, a new and morally ambiguous trade thrived. Aspiring recruits, many of them battle-hardened veterans of the brutal, decades-long civil war against the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), fidgeted in plastic chairs. Their eyes, accustomed to scanning for threats in the dense jungles and urban labyrinths of their homeland, now fixated on glossy brochures depicting idyllic Russian landscapes—a stark contrast to the grim realities of a war zone. Across from them sat the purring recruiters, men with slicked-back hair and creepy smiles, speaking a language of fantastical sums.

A desperate egress