Sri Lanka: A tight grip on the controls ©Corbis Sri Lankan President Mahinda Rajapaksa (right), accompanied by a special envoy from China, a key development partner Sri Lanka has three commonly spoken languages: Sinhalese, Tamil and English. But anyone driving towards the soon-to-open Hambantota International Airport in the nation's south could be forgiven for thinking a fourth had crept in, given the frequency of Chinese road signs. Set up to guide teams of immigrant labourers building new highways, these are far from the only harbingers of a newly arrived influence. At the airport itself, which is being financed with a $209m Chinese loan, a red and gold starred flag flutters above the workers" housing. President Mahinda Rajapaksa hopes the project will usher more visitors on to the tropical island's famed beaches when flights begin arriving early next year. But it is also part of a larger vision. His government is racing to build infrastructure, much of it funded and built by Chinese companies, to relaunch the economy after more than two decades of civil war. Hambantota, a small coastal town that also happens to be Mr Rajapaksa's political base, already boasts a controversial (and so far little used) new port, built with $1.4bn of Chinese loans. A gleaming 35,000 seat cricket stadium also opened nearby last year. These will soon be joined by a convention centre, an oil refinery, tourist hotels and business parks, all designed to attract foreign investment and transform this war-scarred nation of 21m into what Mr Rajapaksa likes to call "the emerging wonder of Asia." Still, his vaunted post-conflict renaissance is also sparking unease. Western governments and New Delhi fear creeping Chinese influence in the strategically-located island. Activists also worry that his drive for growth is coming at a cost: a backsliding on democracy and critical civil rights. These latter fears will be aired on Thursday as the country is set for an uncomfortable public review at the UN human rights council in Geneva. Concerns voiced there are likely to include threats to press and judicial freedom by an increasingly autocratic government dominated by Mr Rajapaksa's family, alongside faltering progress on reconstruction and reconciliation in the island's military-dominated north. Behind these lurk a deeper source of anxiety: the unresolved questions of war crimes, allegedly committed by government forces during their bloody victory against the Tamil Tiger rebels in May 2009, in which as many as 40,000 civilians were killed. Sri Lanka has emerged as not just a global test-case of how to spur growth after a conflict but also a closely watched swing state where the US and India are vying with China for influence. At such a decisive moment, any erosion of civil society could frighten away international investors just as the postwar boom is showing signs of coming off the boil. In turn, this could prompt Sri Lanka to turn further from the west. "This government is leaving behind the kind of boisterous, pluralist politics typical of countries in south Asia," says Paikiasothy Saravanamuttu, head of the Centre for Policy Alternatives, a Colombo-based research group. Instead it wants a more east Asian model, where nothing gets in the way of development. Sri Lanka's new era started on May 19 2009, when Mr Rajapaksa delivered a speech many in his country feared they would not live to hear. Hailing a decisive victory over the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam rebels, he marked the end of a war that had long divided the mostly Buddhist Sinhalese southern majority from the minority Hindu Tamils in the north. The ensuing celebrations propelled the charismatic Mr Rajapaksa to a resounding second election victory the following year, while swift postwar economic expansion raised hopes of a sustained "peace dividend." Sri Lanka's economy grew by 8 per cent in each of the two years following the war, boosted by investments in highways and ports, along with expanding traditional industries such as garments and tea. Tourism recovered quickly, a fact visible in construction projects along the seafront of the capital Colombo. In late October, the US-based Hyatt group joined hoteliers including Sheraton and Shangri-La in announcing plans to enter the market. One million tourists are expected this year, a figure the government says can grow to 2.5m by 2015, while Lonely Planet has put Sri Lanka at the top of its list of desirable holiday spots for 2013. Moves to welcome more foreign investors are also progressing well. The most recent World Bank Ease of Doing Business index saw the island improve again, to 81st place, the highest-ranked country in south Asia. P.B. Jayasundera, the country's most senior economic technocrat, says he thinks foreign direct investment can also rise to $4bn by 2016, a fourfold increase over last year. For all this, there are signs that Sri Lanka's exuberant postwar boom is cooling after sharp increases in interest rates earlier this year, designed to protect a weakened currency and stem inflation. The stock market has fallen sharply, following hikes in tariffs to tackle a worrying trade gap, as imports sucked in by the growing economy depleted limited foreign reserves. The result is an economy set to grow by just over 6 per cent this year, alongside rising public discontent over increased living costs, which has sparked riots and strikes. "We have taken tough measures in 2012 and growth will moderate," says Ajith Cabraal, governor of the central bank. But the government has set the stage for more foreign investment by building new roads, ports, and airports ... we will see more momentum in 2013. Even if growth does return, however, much more will be needed to spur recovery in the war-scarred north. The streets of Jaffna, the region's capital, do show limited signs of prosperity, with an HSBC bank branch sitting alongside new mobile telephone and electronics shops. But elsewhere, signs of older battles remain all too visible, especially around Mullaitivu, the battered town that played host to the war's gruesome final battle, where roadsides remain littered with burnt-out vehicles and bullet-riddled buildings. Sri Lanka's government points to new highways and a railway that will soon link the region more closely to the rest of the country but there are few examples of big private investments that could bring jobs and hope to the struggling population. "People here say grudgingly that life has improved, but it is grudging, because things could have been much better," says Jehan Perrera, head of the National Peace Council, a campaign group, while pointing to scant progress on political reforms to deal with feelings of injustice that fuelled the conflict. While the combination of a demoralised Tamil populace and continuing close scrutiny from Sri Lanka's military lead most analysts to believe a return to arms is highly unlikely, demands for devolution of power remain strong. Meanwhile, the government has steadfastly refused a full investigation into claims of war crimes, despite a resolution passed in March by the UN Human Rights Council urging it to do so. Indeed, far from moving to placate such demands, many observers say Mr Rajapaksa is moving in the other direction, with fresh threats to judicial independence and recent moves to centralise yet more power in the hands of his family, notably his brothers Gotabhaya and Basil, who control the army and economic development respectively. "Things are definitely getting worse," says one western diplomat based in the country, citing worries over threats to journalists, opposition politicians and civil society figures, alongside a continuing spate of mysterious abductions of regime critics and Tamil civilians. Many Sri Lankans say these are orchestrated by the military. Few place much faith in the country's fractured opposition to counter such problems, despite the government's release of Sarath Fonseka, the former head of the army who stood unsuccessfully against the president in 2010, only to be subsequently jailed on charges the opposition says were politically motivated. "They are trying to run the government as a dictatorial regime," Mr Fonseka now says. Corruption has increased ... but the main opposition party is totally disorganised. This pushes many to pin hopes of change on international pressure. Such allegations of cronyism and graft increasingly worry investors already alarmed by the resignation of the country's top financial regulator in August, seemingly pressured by the administration to forestall investigations into stock price manipulation. "Sri Lanka has lots of potential, but only if the megalomaniac tendencies of the president and his brothers can be brought under control," says one western fund manager. Mr Rajapaksa himself seems unbothered by such sentiments; in a speech in August he stressed that Sri Lanka would solve its problems without "relying on imported solutions and utilising foreign influences." Any move to press him further, including criticisms of Sri Lanka's human rights records in Geneva or a further resolution at the UN next March, is immediately complicated by China. Concerns in western capitals have focused on Sri Lanka's new ports, which some defence analysts think could form part of a series of military bases and other Chinese-backed projects around the Indian Ocean known as the "string of pearls." Such developments worry India too, which frets about any Chinese presence close to its borders and about domestic political pressure from its 61m Tamil citizens seeking action to help their fellow Tamils to the south. "President Rajapaksa has been very clever in playing China, India and America off each other, but it is a slippery slope," says Sinha Ratnatunga, editor of the Sunday Times newspaper in Colombo. We are still living on borrowed money. Even so, Sri Lanka plans more grand infrastructure schemes. Namal Rajapaksa, the president's 26-year-old son and the head of the district around the southern Hambantota port, says some $5bn will go into new projects in his area over five to 10 years. While he says the country will seek an array of foreign investors, many believe such plans are unlikely without further Chinese finance. If that happens, other senior figures seem relaxed, stressing that their country has long sought to be independent. They play down risks associated with Chinese tie-ups and insist that their fast-growing island will be able to repay loans."We are not worried about it at all," says Mr Cabraal at the central bank. In different periods in the history of the world, funding for investment has come from many different countries ... perhaps now it is just China's turn?