Features
Election hustling in the South & Boycott calls in the North
by Rajan Philips
Which election is going to be first? Presidential or parliamentary? If it is going to be parliamentary, the President will have to dissolve parliament soon. Otherwise, the Presidential election will take place between September 18 and October 18, on a date determined by the Election Commission. Some of us speculated about the advantages (to Ranil Wickremesinghe) of having the parliamentary election first, based on news stories that a March parliamentary election was in the offing. Since then, the pendulum has swung towards a presidential election going first.
Two factors may seem to have dragged the pendulum to the other side. The MPs’ pension and the Rajapaksa implosion. First time MPs would apparently stand to lose their pension eligibility if parliament were to be dissolved before September. That would have aggravated many SLPP MPs without whose support the Wickremesinghe presidency would be in peril and his potential candidacy to be president could be a non-starter.
The Rajapaksa implosion is now almost complete, and in their desperation Rajapaksas are reportedly endorsing Dhammika Perera to be their presidential candidate. That would be quite a change for the SLPP – from an ex-army colonel to a corporate boardroom raider. Dhammika Perera is no Donald Trump, and Sri Lankans, like most South Asians and unlike Americans, are culturally weary of entrusting public offices to private money makers. All of this opens the presidential doors quite widely for Ranil Wickremesinghe.
The Sunday Times (31 December) political commentary gives a detailed account of the jostling and hustling of presidential candidates in the south. The three serious candidates are Ranil Wickremesinghe, Sajith Premadasa and Anura Kumara Dissanayake. The only other current parliamentarian with presidential ambition as well as credentials is Champika Ranawaka.
But he has no following in spite of all his efforts to create one. He is now busy dissociating himself from claims that he belongs to this or that alliance. Perhaps, that way he can keep his ministerial options open regardless of who wins the presidency. In any event, Mr. Ranawaka will be a better cabinet resource to any president than the old and discredited GL Peiris who has tried everyone and is still craving to be in the next parliament.
As for candidates without a parliamentary history their efforts will end in waste no matter how much money they throw at the electorate. The Sunday Times commentary alludes to a potential candidate disbursing three million rupees per district to open district-level campaign offices. Tongue in cheek, we can applaud this mindless generosity hoping for some spin-off effects on people and businesses still going through the economic hard time created by the modern monetary madness and the low-tax growth strategy of the Cabraal-Rajapaksa school of economic development. Beyond that the likely electoral benefit of three million rupees per district will be zilch.
Continuing Frustration
With over nine months to go, there will be plenty of ups and downs, and twists and turns, in the campaigns and fortunes of the three leading candidates. And plenty of time for us to give running commentaries from the sidelines. For this week, I will constrain myself to a seemingly emerging debate in the north about the mode of intervention for SL Tamils in this year’s presidential election. Two propositions are being bandied – boycott the election or field a common (Tamil) presidential candidate.
Both propositions might be intended to corner the TNA and expose it to criticism if the TNA were to choose to support one of the presidential candidates from the south, as it did in 2014/15 (Maithripala Sirisena, who won) and again in 2019 (Sajith Premadasa, who lost).
At the same time, considering an alternative to supporting one of the main candidates is indicative of the level of frustration in Tamil politics over the lack of any significant movement on the so called reconciliation front generally since the end of the war in 2009, more particularly during the five years of yahapalana government, and finally during the nearly two years of the interim Wickremesinghe presidency.
The frustration continues even as the presidential campaign is beginning to take off. TNA leaders who have worked closely with Ranil Wickremesinghe are now fed up with his constant scheming and use of the project of reconciliation like a chessboard bishop for political moves. There is also frustration in Tamil political circles over the lack of clarity and commitment on the part of the other two candidates, Sajith Premadasa and Anura Kumara Dissanayake, on specific issues concerning the minorities in general and the Sri Lankan Tamils in particular.
Mr. Premadasa has hardly said anything on the matter to excite anyone among the minorities. Mr. Dissanayake, on the other hand, has been saying many things to many people but has not said anything that will make Tamils, Muslims and malayaha (upcountry) Tamils to sit up and take note. His interview with Meera Srinivasan of The Hindu was a colossally missed opportunity to clarify his, the JVP’s and the NPP’s positions on specific matters concerning the minorities instead of repeating generalities that everyone has been hearing for the last 75 years.
Perhaps I should not be too harsh on Anura Kumara Dissanayake. The late TULF leader M. Sivasithamparam expressed similar frustration in 1994 over Chandrika Kumaratunga’s reluctance to show commitment on specific matters that the TULF was expecting from her.
This was before the 1994 parliamentary election, which Ms. Kumaratunga went on to win spectacularly and later the presidential election, but failed equally spectacularly to convert her resounding 1994 victories to meaningful and durable changes. There are lessons for Mr. Dissanayake to learn, but blaming everyone before him is not the best way to learn from history.
Boycott Culture and Fifty-Fifty Betrayal
In this background, it should not be surprising if even the TNA were to jump on the boycott bandwagon. They are not likely to warm up to the idea of a common Tamil presidential candidate, simply because there will never be an agreement between the TNA and others as to who should be the common candidate – a TNA or non-TNA member?
The bigger question is what will boycotting entail and what will it produce? The fact of the matter is that the weapon of boycotting in the current circumstances is not a weapon of strength or purpose, but a response of desperation and abdication.
The suggestion of a common Tamil presidential candidate is even more ridiculous, and arguably a betrayal of the once celebrated Fifty-Fifty Ponnambalam cry among the Tamils.
The suggestion that a boycott will not be workable because there is no LTTE to enforce it is a clear indication of how Johnnies-come-lately have become the main voices in Tamil politics. There was no LTTE when Jaffna successfully boycotted the country’s first ever election under universal franchise, the State Council election in 1931. And no LTTE or guns were required when Tamil parliamentarians kept themselves out of cabinets.
To be sure, GG Ponnambalam was opposed to both boycotts, and it can be argued with the benefit of history and hindsight that the unintentional outcomes of these well intended boycotts have been thoroughly counterproductive.
Now that I have mentioned Ponnambalam, the eldest, let me turn to the fifty-fifty constitutional formula that Ponnambalam eloquently but unsuccessfully advocated. There was nothing wrong with the proposition as a constitutional formula, what was wrong was that Ponnambalam was not as sincere in his conviction as he was eloquent in his advocacy. More importantly, he did not have with him the clear support of other minority groups in the country, even though the formula was pitched on behalf of all of them.
My point now is that the fifty-fifty formula was inclusive of all minorities, unlike the common Tamil presidential candidate which excludes all the other minorities. Hence the betrayal. If fielding a common Tamil candidate is the mode of intervention for the Tamils, does it mean the Muslims and the malayaha Tamils will have their own separate candidates? Will there be two Tamil candidates, one for the North and one for the East, until the twain shall merge? And a third one for the Colombo Tamils. If and when diaspora Sri Lankans get to vote, there could be candidates from the diaspora. Poor Gotabaya, he jumped the gun too soon for his own good.
Joking apart there could be some merit in every minority group fielding a candidate just to drive home the point about the absurd depths to which the presidential system has collapsed. When JR Jayewardene introduced the presidential system in 1977/78, his supporters among Tamil notables touted it as a special boon for the minorities because no candidate can win without minority votes, and therefore every presidential winner will have to make promises to minorities and deliver on them for re-election.
That theory had many holes from the start and they have gotten bigger with every election. And now the system needs an exclusive candidate from each group, primarily to get airtime for venting group grievances. I am not making this up; national TV exposure has been suggested as a weighty reason for fielding a common Tamil candidate.
What are the options? One option could be for a majority of Tamil political organizations to come together in alliance with like minded Muslim and malayaha Tamil political organizations and identify a set of priority issues on what is common to all groups, as well as those specific to each group. Formulate a short list of questions on the identified issues and invite the presidential candidates to express their positions and specifically their plans of action on every one of the issues.
The ideal forum for this could be provided by organizing a televised debate among the main presidential candidates and focused exclusively on the issues and concerns of all minorities. The candidates will have the opportunity to make their case directly to Tamil, Muslim and malayaha Tamil voters, and the voters can in turn decide whether to spoil their vote in protest, or to vote for the candidate who came closest to satisfactorily answering their questions. And political organizations can decide to publicly support a candidate or not to support anyone, based on the answers given by the candidates.
Features
High Stakes in Pursuing corruption cases
The death of the most important suspect in the Sri Lankan Airlines Airbus deal has drawn intense public speculation. Kapila Chandrasena the former CEO of the heavily loss-making national airline was found dead under circumstances that the police are still investigating.
He had recently been arrested by the Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption in connection with the controversial Airbus aircraft purchase agreement signed in 2013. Police investigations are continuing into the cause of death and whether or not he committed suicide. The unresolved death brings to light the high stakes involved in accountability efforts of this nature.
The uncertainty surrounding Chandrasena’s death has revived public memories of other mysterious deaths linked to corruption investigations and public scandals. Among them is the death of Rajeewa Jayaweera, a former SriLankan Airlines executive and outspoken critic of the Airbus transaction. He was following in the tradition of his father, the late foreign service officer and public servant Stanley Jayaweera who mentored the younger generation in good governance practices and formed the group “Avadhi Lanka” along with icons such as Prof Siri Hettige. Rajeewa had written a series of articles exposing irregularities in the deal before he was found dead near Independence Square in Colombo in 2020. The CCTV cameras in that high security area were turned off. Questions raised at that time whether or not he had committed suicide were not satisfactorily resolved.
The controversy about the cause of Chandrasena’s death is diverting attention away from the massive damage done to the country by the SriLankan Airlines deal itself. The value of the aircraft agreement was close to the size of the International Monetary Fund bailout package that Sri Lanka desperately needed by 2023 in order to stabilise the economy after bankruptcy. Sri Lanka’s IMF Extended Fund Facility amounted to about USD 3 billion spread over four years. The comparison shows the scale of the losses and liabilities that irresponsible and corrupt decisions have imposed on the country and which must never happen again.
Wider Pattern
The corruption linked to the Airbus transaction came fully into the open only because of investigations conducted outside Sri Lanka. In 2020 Airbus agreed to pay record penalties of more than EUR 3.6 billion to authorities in Britain, France and the United States to settle global corruption investigations. Sri Lanka was identified as one of the countries where bribes had allegedly been paid in order to secure contracts. The Airbus deal involved the purchase of six A330 aircraft and four A350 aircraft valued at approximately USD 2.3 billion. Investigations showed that Airbus paid bribes amounting to nearly USD 16 million in order to secure the contract. According to court submissions, at least part of this money amounting to USD 2 million was transferred through a shell company registered in Brunei and routed through Singapore bank accounts linked to the late airline CEO and his wife.
The commissions involved in this deal may seem comparatively small compared to the overall value of the contracts but devastating in their consequences. But they also show that a few million dollars paid secretly to decision makers could lead to the country assuming liabilities worth hundreds of millions or even billions of dollars over decades. This is why corruption is not simply a moral issue. It is a direct economic assault on the living standards of ordinary people. Money lost through corruption is money unavailable for schools, hospitals, rural development and job creation. In the end the burden falls on ordinary citizens who are left to repay debts incurred in their name without receiving commensurate benefits in return.
The SriLankan Airlines transaction gives an indication of the wider pattern of corruption and misuse of national resources that has taken place over many years. This was not an isolated incident. There were numerous large scale infrastructure and procurement projects that imposed heavy debts on the country while enriching politically connected individuals and their associates. Other projects such as the Colombo Port City, Hambantota Harbour and highway construction reveal a similar pattern.
Less publicised but equally damaging scandals have involved fertiliser medicine and energy contracts. Investigations into medicine procurement in recent years uncovered allegations that substandard pharmaceuticals had been imported at inflated prices causing both financial losses and risks to public health.
Moral Renewal
The present government appears determined to investigate major corruption cases in a manner that no previous government has attempted. Those who ransacked and bankrupted the treasury need to be dealt with according to the law. There is considerable public support for efforts to recover stolen assets and ensure accountability.
In his May Day speech President Anura Kumara Dissanayake stated that around 14 corruption cases were nearing completion in the courts this very month and called upon the public to applaud when verdicts are delivered. Political opponents of the government claim that such comments could place pressure on the judiciary and blur the separation between political leadership and the courts. But the deeper public frustration that underlies the president’s remarks also needs to be understood.
The challenge facing Sri Lanka is twofold. The country must ensure that justice is done through due process and independent institutions. If anti corruption campaigns become politicised they can lose legitimacy. But if corruption and abuse of power continue without consequences the country will remain trapped in a cycle of economic decline and moral decay. Sri Lanka also needs to confront past abuses linked to the war period. There are allegations of kidnapping, extortion, disappearances and criminal activity in which members of the security forces have been implicated. Vulnerable sections of the population suffered greatly during those years. If political leaders turned a blind eye or actively connived in such crimes they too need to be held accountable under the law. Selective justice will not heal the country. Accountability must apply across the board regardless of political position, ethnicity or institutional power.
Sri Lanka has paid a very heavy price for corruption and impunity. The economic collapse of 2022 did not occur overnight. It was the result of years of bad governance, reckless decision making, abuse of power and the misuse of public wealth. If the country is to move forward the focus cannot be diverted by sensational speculation alone. Suspicious deaths and political intrigue may dominate headlines for a few days. But the larger issue is the system that enabled corruption to flourish without accountability for so long. The real national task is to end that system. Sri Lanka cannot build a prosperous future on a foundation of corruption and impunity. Unless those who looted public wealth are held accountable and the systems that enabled them are dismantled, the country risks repeating the same cycle again.
Jehan Perera
Features
When University systems fail:Supreme Court’s landmark intervention in sexual harassment case
Over seven years after making an initial complaint of sexual harassment against her research supervisor, Dr. Udari Abeyasinghe, then a temporary lecturer and now a senior lecturer at the University of Peradeniya, has been finally served justice. On May 8, 2026, the Supreme Court made the following directions regarding Udari’s fundamental rights case: “1) The 1st Respondent [her research supervisor] is prohibited from accepting any post, whether paid or not or honorary, in any university, educational institute or other academic institution; 2) The UGC to issue a direction to all universities and other institutions, coming under its purview, to abstain from giving any appointment, whether paid or not, or honorary, to the 1st Respondent; and 3) The University of Peradeniya, including the Council and respective Respondent [sic], are directed to take appropriate measures to enforce and raise awareness of the University of Peradeniya’s policy on Sexual or Gender-Based Harassment and Sexual Violence for staff and students, including conducting mandatory annual seminars for all academics, staff and students.” I recently spoke with Udari to learn about her experience battling the University’s sexual and gender-based violence (SGBV) procedures.
Violence and injustice
Udari was a temporary lecturer when she began working on her MPhil degree. Her research supervisor was a Senior Professor and Dean of her faculty. The harassment began in 2017.
When Udari reached out for support to the SGBV Committee of the University of Peradeniya, the Chair explained the complaint procedure, including how a third party could make a complaint on her behalf. In July 2018, Udari’s mother made a written complaint to the Vice Chancellor (VC). “The very next day [my supervisor] called me … and asked me to withdraw the complaint because it would look bad for me … the university should have taken measures to separate the complainant from the perpetrator … but nothing like that happened.”
Before making the formal complaint, Udari reached out to other academic staff at her Faculty. She shared her experience with a few close colleagues. Many advised her to leave the Faculty. “No one in the Faculty supported me publicly, although some sympathised privately … I was a temporary lecturer … no one really cared.” Some of her colleagues and non-academic staff who knew about the harassments, asked her to avoid involving them because they feared retaliation from higher powers.
Udari faced a preliminary inquiry and then a formal inquiry. The preliminary inquiry took place about four months after her complaint, and the inquiry committee recommended proceeding to a formal inquiry. The latter was held about a year after the initial complaint. “I got to know unofficially that [my supervisor] had got hold of all the statements made at the preliminary inquiry and pressured some colleagues to change their statements before the formal inquiry.” During the time of the formal inquiry, an anonymous letter (“kala paththaraya”) was circulated among staff: “It was a character assassination … the same kala paththaraya would get circulated from time to time.” After the formal inquiry committee submitted its report and recommendations, Udari was informed, in writing, that the University Council had dismissed the report.
“Neither the preliminary inquiry report nor the formal inquiry report were shared with me … I had to make a formal request to the VC and only then did I get a copy of the preliminary inquiry report… I had to get the formal inquiry report through an RTI (a request under the Right to Information Act). What I understand is that [my supervisor] had influenced the Council … that’s why they rejected the report…saying there had been a delay of six months to make a complaint ….” (N. B. there are no time limitations for submitting a complaint in the SGBV by-laws of the University of Peradeniya, although such time bars exist at other universities).
Udari then submitted formal complaints to the University Grants Commission (August 2020) and the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka (December 2020), and finally filed a fundamental rights case at the Supreme Court in March 2021. Five years later, on May 8th 2026, Udari’s complaint was vindicated.
University procedures and inquiries
When her mother submitted the complaint against her supervisor, Udari was a temporary lecturer. She had given up her dream of pursuing an academic career because she did not think she would be recruited to a permanent position after making a complaint against a faculty member. It is encouraging that Udari was recruited, but in most instances, students and junior staff endure and stay silent to avoid jeopardising their academic careers. We currently have no procedures in place at universities to protect victims and witnesses from backlash.
According to Udari, the former Chair of the SGBV Committee and the members of her preliminary inquiry panel played a crucial role in her case, and, in her words, “could not be influenced.” But SGBV by-laws at state universities place inordinate power in the hands of the Council and VC. According to the SGBV by-laws of the University of Peradeniya, the Council appoints the 15-member SGBV Committee comprising “[t]wo (02) persons from among the members of the Council; [t]en (10) persons drawn from the permanent and senior members of the academic community; and [t]hree (03) persons external to the University, from among the retired academic or administrative staff of the University” (Section 2.1). While the by-laws recommend appointing persons who have demonstrated “gender-sensitivity, proven interest in working on issues of gender equality and equity, and trained to investigate and inquire into cases of sexual or gender-based harassment and sexual violence” (Section 2.1), we know this is often not the case. In many universities, VCs control which cases are taken up and end up in an inquiry. Most students and staff at state universities have little faith in the existing SGBV complaint procedures.
As Udari experienced, the decisions of inquiry committees can be overruled and dismissed by University Councils, indicating the importance of appointing appropriate members to the Councils. The Deans of faculties, who are Ex-officio members, usually collude to protect their own interests and fiefdoms, while the appointment of external members to Councils is deeply politicised. At present, there is no application process or vetting of candidates before they are appointed. They are usually persons who are seen to be sympathetic to the incumbent political dispensation. Furthermore, external members are dependent on the university hierarchy for information on the issues being discussed, the details of which are often hidden from them. It is not surprising then that University Councils would adjudicate on the side of power.
Final recommendation
Beyond barring Udari’s former research supervisor from holding positions in the university system, the Supreme Court has directed the University of Peradeniya to raise awareness on SGBV among staff and students. While SGBV is addressed in the induction courses and orientation programmes at universities, staff and students must be made aware of the nitty-gritties of complaint procedures, including time bars, which were crucial to the outcome of Udari’s case. But is raising awareness sufficient? Do we have ways to hold university authorities accountable for arbitrary and/or prejudicial decision-making and other abuses of power?
For Udari, life continues to be difficult, with constant surveillance of her activities.
“In November 2024 , I shared a post about my case.. it was a newspaper article stating that the Supreme Court had granted leave to proceed… I just took a photograph of it and posted it on my Facebook without any captions… a few weeks later I was summoned by higher authorities…I was informed that several academics had verbally complained about me using my social media to tarnish the name of the faculty and the university and, if that’s the case, that I should know that the University Council has the authority to take action against me … we also spoke briefly about the case and at one point I was told that this incident (harassment) happened to me because I showed some positivity towards (the perpetrator) …”
Let’s hope that university administrations pause before victimising and revictimising SGBV survivors in future. As a community, we have to rethink the hierarchical ways in which universities function and create a meaningful mechanism that supports students and staff to complain without fear of repercussion.
Thank you, Udari, for taking this step forward. University administrations will have to stop, listen and change their ways.
(Ramya Kumar is attached to the Department of Community and Family Medicine, Faculty of Medicine, University of Jaffna, and is an alumna of the University of Peradeniya).
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
By Ramya Kumar
Features
‘Nidahase’ in the spotlight
Senani Wijesena, the Sri Lankan-Australian singer-songwriter, known for fusion pop/R&B with ethnic elements, like the tabla and sitar, is in the news again.
She was featured in The Island, in early April (2026), regarding her career in the music scene, and the release of her first ever Sinhala song ‘Nidahase.’
The song was released in Sri Lanka, on 17th April, with Senani in town to do the needful.
The music video was filmed at the Polgampola Waterfall, in Sri Lanka, and also features co-star Senura Ambegoda … playing the romantic interest.
Describing the setup, Senani had this to say:
“To achieve the high falls scenes, I had to climb large rocks and slippery edges to get to the top of the falls, and I had to do it in the yellow saree I was wearing. Of course the film crew assisted me.”
The initial scenes were filmed in bustling Pettah where Senani meets co-star Senura Ambegoda, working in a street stall, and when their eyes meet it triggers a memory of soul connection and transports her into another world entering the forest scene.
The forest, says Senani, symbolically represented a retreat to nature and peace.
The couple later rejoin at Colombo City Centre where they danced together and enjoyed each other’s company.
Says Senani: “The short dance routine was created on the spot, on set. Senura is a dance teacher, as well as a model and actor, and we learnt the routine, in 10 minutes, before it was filmed.”
‘Nidahase’ means Freedom in English – about being free in life, love, expression and movement.
It’s, in fact, a reworked version of her highly successful English song ‘Free’ which was nominated for a Hollywood Music In Media award in the RNB/Soul category, and also reached the Top 20 of the Music Week Dance charts in the UK.
‘Nidahase’ can be heard on all streaming platforms, including Spotify, Apple Music and Amazon.
Senani’s YouTube channel is www.youtube.com/senanimusic
Her social media pages are: www.instagram.com/senanimusic and www.facebook.com/senanimusic. Her website is www.senani.com
For the record, Senani is the daughter of film actress Jeevarani Kurukulasuriya and Dr Lanka Wijesena.
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