Features
The President’s Envisioning of a Post-Racial Sri Lanka
by Rajan Philips
If President AKD’s inaugural Policy Statement at the opening of parliament 10 days ago was mellifluous in its delivery, it was also meticulous in detail, and sweeping in its themes and vistas. He literally spoke with words and numbers effortlessly flowing, but without notes or the help of the teleprompter even though he had the text in front of him. It was not soaring oratory but captivating eloquence. More like NM in English; and Bernard Soysa, given the pirivena roots of his education, in both Sinhala and English. Yet as an old Peradeniya friend of mine told me last week, what NM couldn’t do AKD has done. And in more ways than one.
The subtitles in the English text of the Policy Statement are quite revelatory. The middle of the speech, taking nearly half its length, is all about the economy. Naturally so and the economic themes and content are indicative of both the government’s approach to stabilizing and growing the economy, and the President’s studiousness in mastering the file. There is no other practical alternative to abiding by the agreements with the IMF entered into by the previous government, while looking for better agreements in what is left of debt restructuring and, more importantly, for restructuring the economy on a sustainable growth path.
Those who are chiding the government for going along with the IMF would also have been the first people to lambaste it for radical irresponsibility if it had chosen to repudiate the agreement. There are still uncertainties and challenges ahead, but as I wrote last week, there could not have been a better political start for the post Ranil-Rajapaksa era than what is being initiated by President AKD and his NPP government.
The start is even more impressive when one looks at the President’s thematic assertions on giving no room for racism and on building national unity; accepting a multi-party system, restoring the dignity of parliament and building a democratic state; and reforming the public service, affirming the rule of law, and delivering justice to victims of crime no matter who the perpetrators of crimes are. Somewhat of a mundane theme amidst all the lofty ones is about cleaning Sri Lanka. Mundane, but a very crucial and long overdue cleaning initiative.
There are those who are ready to smirk at what they see as the JVP’s fatefulness in having to uphold and abide by a political system that it once strove to overthrow. But such self-amusements are rather superficial, for the real irony is that the JVP is now having to save and stabilize not only the economy but also the political system both of which were undone by the same forces that once unleashed state violence to protect them from the JVP. Equally, there is no need for the JVP to show its democratic credentials to anyone in the west when western democracies are electing the real antichrists of democracy such as Donald J. Trump.
What is strikingly unique about these themes and their contents are their sincerity and seriousness that should be apparent to anyone who would view President AKD’s Policy Statement in a historical perspective and in comparison to presidential declarations and statements that we have had to suffer through in the last 20 years.
No Room for Racism
Of all the themes that President AKD touched on in his Policy Statement, the most path breaking thrust is in the commitment to end racism in Sri Lanka. It needs to be said that Sri Lankans – Sinhalese, Tamils, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims and Christians, do not belong to different races in the biological sense. That race is a social construct and not a biological reality is now universally accepted except for flat-earth counterparts in social studies.
In Sri Lanka, the tradition of identifying Sinhalese, Tamils and Muslims, not to mention the castes among the former two, as different races was conclusively put to rest, at least among social scientists and progressive activists, by the path breaking 1979 seminar on “Ethnicity and Social Change in Sri Lanka” organized by the Social Scientists Association. Kudos for that belongs exclusively to Kumari Jayawardena and Charles Abeysekera.
Yet the term race is commonly used to describe the two (Sinhala and Tamil) linguistic groups and the two religious (Moors and Malays) groups. Especially in the Sinhala and Tamil languages in which the same term(s) is used overlappingly to identify caste, ethnicity and race. Race and racism are also political terms that are universally used to describe and denounce discrimination based on differences of colour, place of origin, language and religion.
The President makes it clear that his assertion that there is no room for racism is really an accusation that there has been too much room for ‘racism’ for too long in Sri Lanka – in the shaping of the country’s political framework and its power structures “along regional, ethnic, or religious lines.” And he goes on “such political divisions inevitably resulted in growing alienation among communities.”
This is quite a perceptive understanding because in many political societies pre-existing social and cultural differences aggravated political conflicts between communities. In Sri Lanka, it has been the other way around. Ethnic differences over every aspect of politics led to a breakdown of relationships between communities. Political differences spanned the entire spectrum of the state and its responsibilities – on citizenship, language rights, representation, and access to land, employment and education.
And the President’s dialectic that racism provokes counter-racism, and “racism in one part feeds and strengthens nationalism in another,” brings to mind a rather combative version of the same sentiment by TULF leader A. Amirthalingam in his maiden speech in parliament, as a 29 year old Federal Party (ITAK) MP in 1956, that it is “communalism of the majority that begets communalism of the minority.”
President AKD is striking a remarkably conciliatory note, and without pointing fingers at this or that community he is drawing on the electoral sweep in which “all communities across all provinces have trusted us and granted us this power.” He is also firm in assuring that his government will not allow “a resurgence of divisive racist politics” or any “form of religious extremism to take root again in Sri Lanka.” And again that no one “will be allowed to use nationalist or religious rhetoric as a means to gain political power in this country.”
Flights of Oratory
Sri Lankan politics has seen flights of oratory extolling national unity and equality for the first 20 years after independence. SWRD Bandaranaike waxed eloquent at the State Council that contributed to JR Jayewardene’s original bill on the national languages being changed to include both Sinhala and Tamil as official languages. Even though he would repudiate the original arrangement as Prime Minister in 1956, SWRD was never unclear about what was needed for Sri Lanka’s unity.
He went poetic envisaging an island that would someday be a “painted ship on a painted ocean.” Colvin R de Silva was polemical and blunter in presaging that with two languages there would be one country, but with one only there could be two of them. NM was inflexible in his stance on the parity of languages, even though it may have cost the Left an election or two, but it held the country together as both Amirthalingam and AJ Wilson would later acknowledge in their obituaries of NM.
There was more of them in the late 1960s. GG Ponnambalam, the father of fifty-fifty, was sincere and genuine when he perorated in parliament that “through fair weather and foul, in sunshine and in rain, I have held aloft the ideal of a united Lanka.” In fact, “from Point Pedro to Point Dondra,” was Ponnambalam’s rhetorical rejoinder to what he called the peninsularity in the idea of Tamil federalism. To sum it up, at the 50th anniversary of Sri Lanka’s independence, President Chandrika Kumaratunga acknowledge on behalf of everyone that “we have failed in the essential task of nation building.”
Now there is a chance for the remaking of a broken nation. President Dissanayake seems convinced of the great opportunity he, his government and the new parliament have, and he seems determined to make good use of it. The rhetorical flourishes of the past were all sincere expressions of individual political leaders. But none of them drew on electoral support from every part of the country and could be backed by the power of the state to the extent that President AKD and the NPP now seem to have.
Put another way, what AKD and his gallant team are manifesting is an organic possibility and not a synthetic experiment. In the past, resolving the inter-ethnic or the national question was attempted primarily through top-down initiatives and consociational (relating to or denoting a political system formed by the cooperation of different social groups on the basis of shared power) agreements. Now the initiative is equally grass-root at the electoral level and committedly government-led at the state level. This new fusion has never been experienced before.
There is authenticity as well, but it is the authenticity of the progressive kind and not the chauvinistic variety of old. So, there is plenty of room for optimism. The prospects are not only pleasing, but those in power are also not vile. At the same time, there is no denying the pitfalls ahead even though there is none that is obvious now. For caution, just look at the fall of the United States of America. From the cloudy heights of post-racial America that Barak Obama briefly heralded to the racial pits of Donald Trump. Fortunately for Sri Lanka, it may be that the country has had its share of Trumps already and is now ready for a new beginning.
Features
Coercive laws recipe for future misrule
by Jehan Perera
The NPP government is going after powerful figures from the past and present who have engaged in corruption, fraud and criminal activity in a way that no previous government in Sri Lanka has done. Former ministers, politicians and senior state officials are among those facing investigations and legal proceedings. The government has placed before Parliament a document listing 50 cases involving corruption, fraud and other crimes. These include not only financial offences but also cases relating to the Easter Sunday attacks, the killings of Lasantha Wickrematunge and Wasim Thajudeen, the disappearance of Prageeth Ekneligoda and attacks on journalists Keith Noyahr and Upali Tennakoon.
The significance of this effort is that it can demonstrate that nobody is above the law, regardless of political connections or social standing, which will help restore public confidence in institutions that have long been distrusted. It could also recover public resources, improve the investment climate and strengthen the foundations for a more prosperous and just Sri Lanka. When criticised for focusing on the past and not the present, the government position is that these investigations were initiated under earlier governments, particularly between 2015 and 2019, and that it is now allowing investigators to proceed to deal with the backlog without political interference.
But there is an aspect of the government’s approach that is less justifiable. While pursuing past wrongdoing by powerful individuals, it is also advancing a triumvirate of draft laws that could give the state sweeping powers over citizens, organisations and dissent in the present and future. The draft Prevention of Terrorism legislation, the Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill and the NGO Registration and Supervision Bill raise serious questions about the over-centralisation of power. Each of these laws strengthens the powers of the state while weakening the rights and safeguards that protect people from their misuse and thus questions the basic rights of people in democracy where ‘the power of the people is vested in the government’. This is a recipe for future misrule rather than the rule of law. As the well-known saying goes, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Proposed Laws
The real test of system change, for which the government obtained an overwhelming mandate, requires not only a government willing to hold others accountable, but one prepared to subject itself to the same principles of legality, transparency and restraint. The three proposed laws that are particularly important in this regard are the Protection of the State from Terrorism Bill, the Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill and the NGO Registration and Supervision Bill. Each of these draft laws has been presented as serving a legitimate purpose. Preventing terrorism, combating organised crime and ensuring that NGOs do not facilitate money laundering or terrorist financing are proper responsibilities of the state. Sri Lanka has international obligations in these areas, and no responsible government can disregard them. However, the existence of a legitimate objective does not justify every means adopted to achieve it.
The proposed Protection of the State from Terrorism Bill illustrates the problem. Although its definition of terrorism draws on a model developed by a former United Nations Special Rapporteur, the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka has warned that the definition of terrorism extends beyond the model and could bring legitimate political protest, trade union action and civil disobedience within the scope of counter-terrorism legislation. Its concerns also include prolonged detention, inadequate judicial oversight and restrictions on access to legal counsel. These are objections that go to the heart of the relationship between the citizen and the state. The government cannot credibly promise to protect democratic freedoms while creating powers that could be used to restrict them. It is necessary for the government to reassess the draft through transparent consultation and revise provisions that could criminalise legitimate dissent.
The Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill raises similar concerns. It is presented as giving effect to the United Nations Convention against Transnational Organised Crime, which Sri Lanka ratified in 2006. The Centre for Policy Alternatives (CPA) has argued that the convention does not require many of the bill’s provisions. The proposed law extends to a broad range of offences, permits detention orders lasting up to a year, makes confessions to police admissible for purposes of legal evidence, and introduces extensive surveillance powers. A law intended to dismantle criminal networks should not create a parallel system of exceptional powers that could be applied far beyond organised crime. Nor should safeguards developed through years of experience with abuses under the Prevention of Terrorism Act be weakened through legislation bearing a different name. The government should review whether or not existing laws could be used effectively to control these crimes or whether each exceptional power is necessary.
Civil Society
The proposed NGO Registration and Supervision Bill presents another test of the government’s intentions. The government may reasonably seek transparency in the finances of organisations receiving public or foreign funds, including measures to prevent money laundering and terrorist financing. It seeks to justify its overreach on the grounds of meeting the internationally mandated requirements of the Financial Action Task Force (FATF) for the Asia-Pacific region. But these objectives do not justify placing civil society and NGOs under excessive administrative control when even the FATF ranks them as low to medium risks. The draft bill would require registration and renewal, impose extensive obligations on organisations and empower authorities to suspend or deregister them on broadly framed grounds. It is important to redraft provisions that confer excessive discretion over registration, renewal, suspension and deregistration of NGOs.
Among the concerns raised by United Nations human rights special rapporteurs with regard to the draft NGO law are provisions requiring organisations to align with government policies and restrictions that could affect advocacy, dissent and freedom of association. The implications extend well beyond organisations that engage directly with the government. Community groups, human rights organisations, independent researchers and organisations working on reconciliation or accountability could find their activities constrained by uncertainty over how these provisions might be interpreted. Organisations that criticise government policies are not thereby working against the country. Their freedom to do so is part of what distinguishes a democracy from a system in which the government determines which opinions and activities are acceptable.
The government has generated considerable public goodwill through its pursuit of corruption and criminality. It should not assume that this goodwill gives it an unlimited mandate to strengthen the coercive powers of the state. The NPP knows from its own history that governments can treat dissent as a threat and use the machinery of the state against their opponents. There is still time to correct the drafts through transparent public consultation, narrow definitions of offences, meaningful judicial control over detention and surveillance, and effective remedies against arbitrary decisions. A government that pursues corruption while weakening safeguards against state abuse risks undermining its own achievements. Besides bringing to light the abuse of power by previous governments, the NPP government needs to build a system in which no future government can abuse power in the belief they can get away with it.
Features
Quality assurance without quality enhancement: The irony of university QA
By Ramya Kumar
According to the Quality Assurance Council (QAC) of the University Grants Commission (UGC), quality assurance (QA) refers to “the means (i.e. the policies, attitudes, actions, procedures, etc.), by which an institution can guarantee with confidence and certainty, that the standards and quality of its educational provision are being maintained and enhanced”.
An expansive structure has been in place since 2005 to govern and implement QA processes within the state university system. The QAC is the focal point at the UGC that implements external reviews of state universities and institutes. Each university has its own Centre for Quality Assurance (CQA) tasked with performing QA in line with QAC directives. Faculties, in turn, have Internal Quality Assurance Cells (IQAC) performing their own QA; they are answerable to the CQA.
The big question is whether this all-encompassing top-down QA system, that in many ways undermines the internal dynamics of university governance, actually supports universities to enhance the quality of education. This article highlights some concerns.
Top-down check-box activities
The QAC conducts external reviews of universities and degree programmes. A review team appointed by the UGC (who may or may not have experience in the institution/programme in question) examines the self-evaluation report submitted by the said institution/programme. The team then conducts a site visit to verify the claims made in the university’s self-evaluation report, clarify issues identified during the desk review, and examine how QA procedures operate in practice. The team holds meetings with the university administration, members of the Council and Senate, Deans, Heads of Departments, academic and non-academic staff, students, and others. Following the visit, a draft report is submitted to the relevant institution/programme for comment before final publication. The reviewed institution/programme then prepares and publishes an action plan addressing the recommendations, with subsequent monitoring of progress.
There are some worthy QA initiatives under implementation, such as improving facilities for students with disabilities and strengthening mechanisms to address sexual- and gender-based violence. However, for the most part, QA activities have little to do with improving the quality of education. They are mostly preoccupied with monitoring faculty and department websites, digital transformation, student feedback, subject evaluation, course evaluation, peer evaluation, and, more recently, staff appraisal. These activities, which consume an inordinate amount of time—so precious at understaffed universities—have become check-box activities completed to generate evidence for the next review. Below is an excerpt of a conversation between two academics (1 and 2) that conveys how QA plays out at universities (reproduced with permission).
1: … .it’s like social media you know, like posting things on Facebook or twitter or Instagram. When people do a lot of social media, everything they do, they do thinking, “okay I’m going to post it in this way… this I have to put on my Instagram.” QA is a little like that… everything is considered in light of, “ah we can use this for the review, as evidence… for example very recently we were encouraged to have all the things that we do in our department in the faculty newsletter so then they can put in the review. Every little thing has to be noted down….
2: And with pictures and all…
1: At the very least it has to be written so that you have written evidence .. you can’t be doing something for the sake of doing something or because it is good for the department … and sometimes people tell me “oh yea that’s a good idea we can fit that under this x, y section of the review..”
2: Yea, and nobody really thinks about the actual outcome… whether it’s actually helping anyone..
1: I also find that a lot of the words that we used in different ways have now been co-opted to the QA discourse ..including quality.. I can’t actually say what I want as an “outcome”, for example, that the outcome of this workshop is that my students “think about” … then I am told “ah but no that’s not one of the Bloom’s taxonomy words, “think about”.…
2: And the worst part is these medical and agriculture people, these types of people go around spreading it like some kind of gospel!
1: Yea, this cookie cutter way of doing things, they think is the height of innovativeness or creativity, when actually it is so mundane … for me the most awful thing about it is like some fungus of mundanity has taken over through QA reviews.
2: yea, when you say QA, my mind closes off immediately and I stop listening…
Auditing everything but power
QA leaves out crucial aspects of university governance. For instance, there is no review or assessment of the “quality” of university administrations under Criterion 1 or the integrity of procedures governing the promotion of academic staff under Criterion 6 of the institutional reviews.
The majority in the Council—the university’s executive and governing body, which is responsible for selecting the Vice-Chancellor (VC)—are appointed in ad hoc fashion. Apart from the Ex-Officio members in the Council (VC, Deans, etc.), and the two members elected by the Senate, the remainder are appointed by the UGC with no formal consultation or vetting procedure. The VC appointment process described in UGC Circular No. 03/2023 exemplifies how an ostensibly technical process can become entangled in political sycophancy. The Registrar invites applications for the position of VC through advertisement. Applicants must submit a curriculum vitae, a statement of vision for the university and supporting documents. The University Council appoints a three-member Search Committee of senior academics to encourage “eminent persons” to apply, while the UGC appoints a former VC from another university to “observe” the selection process.
A Special Meeting of the University Council is convened. Candidates are interviewed and must make a presentation to the Council Members, followed by questions. Each Council member “gives marks” for seven prescribed criteria: strategic focus (20%), effective leadership (20%), holistic thinking/conceptual skills (10%), academic and research excellence (15%), personal integrity (10%), professional communication (10%) and managerial competence (15%). Marks are averaged, and the Council recommends three candidates to the UGC in rank order. The UGC-appointed observer separately submits a confidential report on the selection process.
This procedure is expected to guarantee quality, but does it? Applications are submitted to the Council Members, who have been appointed on questionable bases, and who are expected to review the applications and give scores, based on objective assessments. But, in reality, most Council Members are manipulated by VC candidates, who often have personal ties with them. The UGC-appointed observer usually has no genuine interest in the outcome. And there is no way for anyone to actually question the Council’s decision once it is made. Although the highest-ranked candidate may ultimately be appointed, the selection remains a political decision made by the President, who retains the discretion to appoint any one of the three.
External reviews also do not look into the promotions of academic staff, except to scrutinise whether there are policies and procedures in place to govern promotion. Academic staff may apply for promotion to Professor once they satisfy the prescribed eligibility requirements, which typically include the period of service, academic qualifications, research and publication achievements, teaching experience, and contributions to the university and wider community. Applications are evaluated against specified criteria, with research output and academic contributions assessed through documentary evidence and expert evaluation. Under the UGC’s scheme for Professors, two experts from outside the applicant’s institution assess specified aspects of research and knowledge dissemination. Again, beneath this technical process, which is externally evaluated, lies a problematic points-based scheme that can be manipulated and abused with impunity.
Rethinking university QA
Like the VC election process and the schemes of promotion for academic staff, QA reviews are open to manipulation. Before a review, there is a chaotic rush to complete evidence gathering and reporting. Academics leave all other work aside, including at times their teaching, to focus on completing documentation and preparing reports. The standardised criteria in the review manuals and scoring sheets often do not reflect differences in disciplines and institutional contexts. But this does not really matter because any serious problems experienced by institutions or programmes are hastily brushed under the carpet to conceal any evidence that could taint the review. The goal is to obtain an A or at least a B grade at whatever cost.
QA may result in positive change if it moves beyond top-down check-box activities towards internally designed and owned processes encompassing all aspects of university governance, led by departments and faculties, and supported by adequate resources. The current QA system needs to be dismantled and replaced by procedures that are accountable, not to the UGC, but to our students and the communities we serve.
(Ramya Kumar is attached to the Department of Community and Family Medicine, Faculty of Medicine, University of Jaffna)
. Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
Features
Down Memory Lane — the Grand 20th Edition!
Yes, Down Memory Lane, the beloved Sing-Along concert series that first struck a chord, way back in 1997, returns for its landmark 20th edition this Saturday, 17th October, at the beautiful Bolgoda Grand Resort, Moratuwa town centre.
Having celebrated its glorious 25th anniversary with the show in 2023, this milestone 20th concert promises to be even more special.
The organisers, the ever-popular Moratuwa Arts Forum, are pulling out all the stops to present yet another unforgettable evening, brimming with camaraderie, fellowship, and pure nostalgia.
Get ready for two-and-a-half hours of non-stop singing as veteran vocalists, from the Moratuwa Arts Forum, will take the stage to lead and inspire the happy audience to sing, sing and sing to their hearts’ content.
The repertoire? Absolutely magical, according to the organisers.

Veteran Arun Dias Bandaranaike: Will handle the evening’s proceedings / Priya Peiris: Event Conceptor
Around 40 golden oldies — from timeless English vintage evergreens and hits from the 50s to the 90s, to toe-tapping calypsos, soulful American plantation melodies, rousing cowboy and Dixieland favourites, aa well as cherished Sinhala standards. All to be sung with much gusto!
This year’s dedicated organising committee comprises Brian Coorey (Chairman), Priya Peiris (Event Conceptor), Hiran Fernando, Suranga Fernando, Viranjan Perera, Hemka Fernando and Neelesh Silva. Guidance and support comes from Moratuwa Arts Forum President Sarana Guneratne and Secretary Chandani Silva.
Adding his signature charm to the evening, as Master of Ceremonies, will be the veteran Arun Dias Bandaranaike.
Don’t miss this landmark celebration of music and memories!
For further details, contact Hiran Fernando on 0772636446 or WhatsApp 0783636446.
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