Features

Towards necessary exercise in discursive disentanglement?

Published

6 years ago

2021/01/29

(Prof. Sasanka Perera’s recent speech as guest speaker to the National Academy of Sciences)

In present times, there is an intriguing, but at times seemingly dangerous entanglement between science, belief and state policy or government action. This kind of phenomena range from the government’s sudden ban of Glyphosate in 2015; the state sponsorship of a conference on the air power of the mythical king Ravana to the layers of stories surrounding the advent of what is now popularly known as the Dammika Peniya. These are merely three well-known phenomena from a whole series of such phenomena in the country with varying impacts on social life, politics and commerce. As a collective of occurrences with their own structure of associated events, these phenomena have not been reckoned with seriously. We have not carefully reflected upon them and asked ourselves why they are more evident now, and what their broader consequences and reasons for manifestation might be. As a result, we do not have credible sociological explanations for these phenomena that goes beyond popular rhetoric. These phenomena are seemingly dangerous too, because many of them defy what we might think of as commonsense and leads in the direction of collective chaos and counter-productive action on the part of the state. And in this journey, ‘science’ is one of the most obvious casualties.

To me, all this points to a contradictory entanglement involving science, belief, and state policy when ideally such contradictory entanglements should not take place. By ‘science’ I do not merely mean the vast systems of knowledge that originated in the west, which now have global hegemony including in our country. Instead, science is any system of knowledge “concerned with the physical world” and phenomena emanating from this world along with formal “observations and systematic experimentation.”i In other words, a “science involves a pursuit of knowledge” that covers “general truths” as well as “the operations of fundamental laws.”ii In this sense, Ayurveda, Unnani, present day engineering, allopathic medicine or any other system of formal knowledge are mostly matters of science though the bases for their fundamentals would vary considerably from the more dominant post-enlightenment sciences to much older systems of knowledge.

Similarly, by ‘belief’, I mean not only matters of faith rooted in religion and tradition but also contemporary beliefs that are created by the repetitive circulation of ideas across media whether they are based on fact and science or not. Often, these ideas address contemporary issues and politics though they might be camouflaged in a rhetoric of the past, resort to specific conventions, and identity politics. And these associations are quite important today given the propensity for fake news and the enhanced ability of people to accept these ideas easily without being formally countered.

In the same sense, ‘state policy’ and actions linked to such policies are expected to be based on formal legal principles and empirical facts, and ideally should have nothing to do with matters of faith or untested assumptions and should benefit the polity.

Generally, I consider science, belief, and state policy to be independent discourses with their own epistemological routes and purposes though there will be close and necessary interactions among these such as between science and state policy. At other times, as we are seeing now, this association can be between belief and state policy where science might be eclipsed.

My intention today is to simply place in context three recent phenomena of this kind that are structurally very similar but contextually very different, which I think would explain to some extent how this amalgamation of discourses function, and the ways in which their politics manifest. As far as I am concerned, what I have to say today are simply preliminary thoughts about which I would like to think further and theorize.

Phenomenon 1: Glyphosate Ban

The use of the weedicide glyphosate was banned by presidential order in 2015. In a paper published in the same year, Jayasumana, Gunatilake and Siribaddana note that people in areas where kidney disease has become endemic have been exposed to multiple heavy metals and glyphosate.iii Their conclusion as far as I could see as a non-expert, was very vague, which amounted to the following observation: “Although we could not localize a single nephrotoxin as the culprit” “multiple heavy metals and glyphosates may play a role in the pathogenesis.”iv This is one of several public articulations related to this matter that has some semblance of what I may call scientific noise, but clearly inconclusive.

The ban was quite sudden and was implemented following on the heels of intense lobbying by Member of Parliament and Presidential Advisor, Reverend Athuraliye Rathana. He argued along with his supporters that this chemical caused chronic kidney disease of unknown etiology (CKDu) in the North Central and Uva Provinces. But what is clear is no reliable and specific scientific evidence was offered by him or the President’s Office as the basis for the ban. In this overall process, it does not seem that the Registrar of Pesticides; Fertilizer Secretariat; Medical Research Institute and Tea Research Institute, all of whom could have presented valuable and more formal input into the decision were consulted. It almost seems that the ban found its genesis in the popular belief that chemicals are bad.

The fact that there is considerable prevalence of kidney disease in parts of the country is a fact, which needs to be more rigorously studied to work out its causes. Personally, I am not a supporter of excessive use of chemicals for anything including agriculture, and to the extent possible, I have made changes in my personal lifestyle to address this anxiety. But that kind of personal, emotional or popular anxieties cannot be the foundation for state level decision-making, particularly if the government and the people both subscribe to the idea of commercial agriculture and the eradication of hunger.

The consequences of the ban have been substantial in monetary terms. It caused production costs to increase substantially and the industry, particularly the tea sector, incurred losses up to 10-20 billion rupees annually while the ban lasted. Though the ban was eventually partially lifted, even at that time, no credible and conclusive data supporting the ban existed. So, it appears, that the ban was solely based on a popular and largely correct general belief of the negative impacts of chemicals, tempered by political rhetoric emanating from matters of faith and popular beliefs. I am sure we can all agree, while we can entertain popular beliefs or even conspiracy theories among people, if they are injected into broader politics and formation of state policy, that would have serious consequences as this event has shown. Part of the problem here is not only the undue credence given to freely circulating popular notions without situating them in the context of formal and reliable knowledge, information and science, but the ability of popular political leaders to convert untested ideas into practices of state policy and action without facing consequences.

Phenomenon 2: The State’s Embrace of Ravana

People of my generation will know that Ravana and his flying machine were merely elements in an interesting story in our youth while in some parts of the country specific local stories linked to this myth circulated. Unlike India and elsewhere in South Asia and in the east right up to Bali, there is no evidence of Ramayana performances which may have included a dramatization of the Ravana narrative in Sinhala cultural lore. But this situation has dramatically changed in recent times where Ravana’s popularity has rapidly increased among a cross section of the people, while his name and alleged historicity have also been openly embraced by the state.

By 2019, the story of Ravana had been directly appropriated by the Sri Lankan state and engrossed in a highly superficial but allegedly scientific discourse on aviation. In July 2019, Civil Aviation Authority of Sri Lankan organized a “conference of civil aviation experts, historians, archaeologists, scientists and geologists” in Katunayake.v The Authority’s Vice Chairman at the time, Shashi Danatunge told Indian media, “King Ravana was a genius. He was the first person to fly. He was an aviator. This is not mythology; it’s a fact. There needs to be a detailed research on this. In the next five years, we will prove this.”vi He further noted, “they had irrefutable facts to prove that Ravana was the pioneer and the first to fly using an aircraft.”vii The conference’s main conclusion was “that Ravana first flew from Sri Lanka to today’s India 5,000 years ago and came back.”viii Many conference participants in their own peculiar wisdom, dismissed the powerful stories narrating Ravana’s kidnapping of Lord Rama’s wife Sita, as a mere “Indian version.”ix For them, this was not possible because Ravana was a noble king.”x

Intriguingly, one part of the myth cluster became a fact while another became fiction based simply on nothing more concrete than emotional and nationalist appeal. The ideas expressed in public on this matter were not private articulations of individuals. Particularly the Vice Chairman of Civil Aviation was speaking as a representative of a state agency. Also, the general conclusions of the conference and the acceptance of the Ravana story as historical fact could simply not be entrained by formal historiography and archaeology.

By 2020, the same agency took its sense of scientificity of these claims even further by launching a research project looking for evidence of Ravana’s flying and his “aviation routes.”xi The theme of the project was, “King Ravana and the ancient domination of aerial routes now lost.”xii Towards this, the Civil Aviation Authority placed advertisements in national newspapers asking people to send in evidence they may have. The purported scientific objective and the reason for the Civil Aviation Authority’ central involvement in this state-sponsored effort was explained as follows: 1) Because the Civil Aviation Authority was “the main aviation regulatory authority in Sri Lanka,” it was the most logical entity to host such and effort, and 2) Because “there are multiple stories over the years about Ravana flying aircrafts and covering these routes” there was a necessity “to study this matter.”xiii

Though there are seemingly rational and seemingly scientific ‘noises’ in this episode, the entire exercise is enveloped in taking myth as fact, and that too, with the direct participation of the state.

Phenomenon 3: The Advent of the Dammika Peniya

Now we come to the advent of the Dammika Peniya which is formally known as ‘ශ්‍රී වීර භද්‍රධම්ම කොරෝනා නිවාරණ ප්‍රතිශක්ති ජීව පානය’ (Shri Vira Bhdradhamma Corona Nivaranana Prathishakthi Jiva Panaya). According to its inventor, Mr Dammika Bandara, the formula for the syrup was given to him by Goddess Kali in a dream. This is a crucial point in which the genesis of this syrup differs from the more formal discourses of knowledge in Ayurveda and Sinhala medicine, within which this claim is located.

It was a claim protected by rhetoric of local medical superiority, power of ancient knowledge and very loud articulations of cultural and political nationalism. But certain things need to be understood clearly. Even within the structure of faith and belief in Sinhala culture, goddess Kali, the alleged ultimate progenitor of the syrup is not known for healing. She is seen more as a powerful deity but with considerable destructive potential. More typically associated with healing is goddess Pattini. So, the claim seems to be out of place even in the context of conventional Sinhala myth and belief. Second, though Ayurveda and Sinhala medicine have associations with faith and ritual, the bulk of their formal discourses on medicine are based on experimentation, repetitive practice and fine-tuning and formally scripted knowledge or that which is handed over word of mouth across generations. My maternal grandfather wrote two books in the early 1970s after he had retired from his Ayurvedic practice and teaching. The first was called Rasayana saha Vajikarana (රසායන සහ වාජිකරණ) in which he presented a specific body of knowledge already known to his field, but with fine-tuning offered by his own practice and studies. The second, called Avinishchitha Aushada (අවිනිශ්චිත ඖෂධ) was very different. It dealt with a series of plants whose medical utility was unknown or unsure. In it, he dealt with the unknown, based on both generations of institutionalized uncertainty as well as conjecture on his part, but based on his long years of practice and observation. Both these point to the nature of the scientific discourse of contemporary Ayurveda.

Compared to this kind of background, Mr Bandara offers a set of contradictions. He is not a medical practitioner, but a mason by profession who runs a small Kali shrine in his neighborhood. However, his claim over having invented a treatment for Corona received massive publicity via media outlets supportive of the state and unreserved public support from numerous local and national political leaders including the Minister of Health and the Speaker of Parliament all of whom consumed the concoction in public along with some of their colleagues. This does not tantamount to formal state support as in the other two cases. But such open adulation and support by senior members of the government is a public performance of confidence for an untested medication with a dubious claim. These actions played a major role in ensuring large numbers of people flocking to Mr Bandara’s house in Kegalle in search of this ‘miracle’ drug – in the midst of a pandemic. This is not a general condemnation of traditional medicine. In the 1950s, the establishment of the Ayurvedic Research Institute was to offer traditional medicine a sound research and dissemination base and bring it on par with formal understanding of science. But Dammika Peniya has no such provenance; it simply came from a dream according to its inventor himself, and such provenance simply cannot be the basis for its public adulation by political leaders. Most criticisms of the concoction and its provenance were vociferously put down in public as acts of anti-nationalism and lack of respect for traditional culture. A dubious study involving several colleagues of the Wathupitiwala Hospital and a handful of test cases had taken place though it is not clear to me if this exercise even had ethical clearance. A committee consisting of medical professionals has now been appointed to undertake a clinical study of the concoction using acceptable clinical trial criteria and practices. Its results have not yet been published.

What does all this mean?

All these three incidents have several obvious things in common:

the core notions in all stories are based on popular assumptions and untested ideas;

they all have powerful political and state support directly or indirectly;

their main arguments are governed by belief whether tempered by faith or by the mere repetition of mass circulating non-facts; and

in all cases, science in the formal sense – from allopathic medicine, Ayurveda and natural sciences to archaeology and history – have been dispelled even though such input could have more sensibly impacted these discourses if they were formally made available.

Moreover, the public manifestation and power of these discourses became possible due to the very clear inability of the public services directly associated with these contexts to be guided by formally collected data and scientific conclusions and their inability to advise their political Masters, and withstand the pressures of political interference. Such political interference is obviously not based on advice from subject experts or from a clear political vision, but from short-term political agendas for popular mobilization. This main conditionality allowed these unstable claims to become part of national politics and in some cases become policy or in the very least lead to actions sanctioned by the state.

But how does one explain the massive public support especially for the last two incidents. I have noticed for many years that people in our country, and particularly the Sinhalas seem to have a desperate urge to be part of grand historical claims and narratives. But I have not yet been able to gather adequate data or theorize what might be going on. But one can tentatively make some observations. The rediscovery of Ravana and brining him from the pages of myth and epic narrative of the Ramayana to state-sponsored formal discourses of populist and non-empirical historicization, and therefore formal reiteration of myth itself shows the urge to control what might be thought of as a popular and powerful narrative of the past. The way in which Sinhalas have reinvented Ravana over the last decade or so is not only as an aviator, but also as an engineer, medical expert, inventor, scientist and scholar. And this is done within an idiom of nationalist discourse that insists a pre-Vijayan and wholly Sri Lankan civilization once existed in which Ravana is a central attraction. These claims also assert this civilization was somehow superior to the cultural landscape across the ocean in the rest of South Asia. This seems to me to be more like what anthropologists would call millenarian mythmaking where Ravana appears at least in part as a millenarian hero. Generally, millenarian stories, beliefs and heroes have to do with delivering a society from danger, introduction of new ideas and technologies to ensure the safety of a collective, and so on. Such stories generally manifest in times of crisis. In the case of the Ravana story, the preoccupation is to recreate an important place for Lanka in the broader political history of South Asia in the context of a politically unstable present.

Even the story of the Dammika Peniya has some of these millenarian features. After all, it was presented as a very local remedy for COVID 19 based on a lost Sri Lankan body of scientific knowledge delivered directly by a goddess in a dream. And that too at a time when people were desperate to be safe and keen to protect their livelihoods from the vagaries of Corona virus at a time the state’s effort at controlling it appeared to be faltering. The Peniya seemed to be a sign of miraculous deliverance from the island’s past glory emerging in the midst of its chaotic present.

To end this preliminary sketch let me refer to a final comment. It seems to me, these kinds of stories emerge in times of crises – be these emotional, social, or political crises. This is not unique to Sri Lanka, and can also be seen in many other parts of the world in structurally similar circumstances. These stories have their genesis in realms of conjecture. I am not objecting to the deployment of conjecture as such. Most good ideas in all our disciplines would often begin with conjecture. As we know, the philosophy of science has shown us the importance of “assumptions, foundations, methods” and “implications of science.”xiv Reflections in philosophy of science also indicate the efforts to distinguish between what is considered science and what is thought of as non-science.xv It is in the latter domain where untested conjecture would generally be located until they can be given a basis in science or dispelled.

In this general context, it seems to me, these stories allow people to be part of a more powerful and often a winning idea of history and hyper-real present even though that domain of belief might have very little or nothing to do with lived reality as such. Partly, these can also be seen as coping mechanisms in difficult and turbulent times. But these are clearly not remedies for very real socio-political or public health issues that can be utilized brazenly by the state as long as their core ideas remain in domains of belief and conjecture.

The collective failure that typifies our situation is the inability of many people to understand this commonsense and as a result, become dangerously entangled in the internal logic of these stories, which have no external empirical foundations except for the real-life calamities some of them might generate. It is also likely our political leaders consciously and deliberately promote these stories and phenomena to divert people’s attention from evolving crises.

In this situation, I find it unfortunate that Sri Lankan social sciences have not yet spent the time to collect these stories and study them more carefully in their border social and political contexts and offer a more coherent, empirically-based, and nuanced theoretical explanation.

(Sasanka Perera is a trained anthropologist and is a professor at South Asian University in New Delhi. This is the text of a guest lecture delivered at the Induction Ceremony of the National Academy of Sciences of Sri Lanka on 22 January 2021)

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Features

Civilizational dialogue proving a remote possibility as realpolitik rages

Published

13 hours ago

2026/09/3

Sahan Weerasooriya

Political leaders at the Shanghai Cooperation Organization Summit 2026. (Photo by PROKOFYEV / POOL / AFP)

Looking back over the years since the 9/11 catastrophe, it could be said that barring former Iranian President Mohammad Khatami no world political leader of note has made an earnest effort to change the nature of global political discourse for the better. Khatami won world acclaim for his pronouncement that the time is right to launch and sustain a ‘Dialogue among Civilizations’.

This was in marked contrast to US political scientist Samuel P. Huntingdon’s epochal theses, formulated in the wake of 9/11 and other global political tumults that the Post Cold War era is essentially one of conflicts among civilizations. That is, people’s identity markers, such as culture and religion, are the prime shaping forces of international conflicts.

From a Political Realism standpoint, Huntingdon’s theory may seem to have gained in credibility over the years but it is Khatami’s pronouncement that has evoked an empathetic response in the hearts and minds of publics world wide. So much so, 2001 was proclaimed by the UN General Assembly as the ‘Year of Dialogue among Civilizations’.

It could be said that the latter proclamation was an endeavour to give back to humans their essential identity of peace-makers. It was an eschewing of the position that war and conflict are central to the human condition and amounted to upholding constructive dialogue among peoples and civilizations as a path to peace.

That things have not worked out in the world in keeping with the expectations of peace makers does not in any way invalidate the thesis that peace is the essential propensity of humans.

If peace-making is seemingly ineffective it is primarily because the path to peace is narrow, tortuous and time-consuming. On the other hand, violence usually misleadingly recommends itself to the human as the more expedient, cost-effective way out of a conflictual situation. However, the ultimate cost of the latter approach is prohibitive because it brutalizes the human beyond recognition.

Some of the evidence is before our eyes. The Trump administration, for example, has, minus much forethought, unleashed what may be described as a ‘quick-fix’ war against Iran but is now finding that it is in a veritable military quagmire in West Asia. The priority for the administration now seems to be a face-saving escape strategy. Such are the costs of the war option.

However, there is no denying that much remains to be done by the world community to bring peoples and cultures together with a view to enabling them to work as one for the cause of a less dangerous world.

Meanwhile, the broad divisions in international politics continue and past political polarities are lingering to the detriment of enhanced international understanding. The East and the West and the South and the North, for instance, are continuing to work in separate collectives, more or less, and no notable efforts are being made by the international community to bring these sides together for the purpose of united constructive action that could usher greater international well being.

The recent Shanghai Cooperation Organization Summit, 2026, held in Kyrgyztan was a replication of the above broad trends but there were some statements at the forum by Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi that deserve special scrutiny and comment.

Modi was quoted saying among other things: ‘The land of Gandhi and the land of Buddha share a single message: the path to peace!..We must move away from endless war towards an end to the war. This is essentially for the well being of humanity. A peaceful resolution to all issues at the earliest is the call of humanity, and this is India’s message.’

The above is the language of international peace and unity. It is such language that will help in building bridges among civilizations and advance the cause of world peace. Besides, it will help bring a measure of understanding between North and South.

In this regard, the Trump administration could take a leaf or more from the Modi government. Unless it makes a ‘U turn’, as it were, in the direction of peace and reconciliation it is very unlikely that the US and the world would experience any stability worth speaking of.

Right now the US is savaging the sovereignty of Venezuela. It is a question of the ‘Empire striking back’ but Venezuela is a far cry from Iran. Iran has outsmarted the US on the battle field and is in a position to influence broad trends in the world economy since it still has control over the Hormuz Straits. That is, Iran could exercise a determining influence over world oil, gas and energy prices. In short, the US consumer’s future peace of mind is very much in the hands of Iran.

Given the above backdrop it should have dawned on the US political leadership that working towards cordial relations with Iran is the most advisable option. The US, simply, has too much to lose otherwise.

Likewise, Russia too needs to take a leaf from India. It is plain to see that its invasion of Ukraine is proving totally ineffective. It has not brought any measure of peace for the Russian people. Russia is right now experiencing a rerun of its military misadventure in Afghanistan. On the other hand, sections of the peoples concerned have been victimized and even brutalized.

Accordingly, there needs to be a coming together of democratic opinion worldwide for a fresh consideration of the options facing humanity. There is a dire need for value-based politics to take the place of Realpolitik. Besides, the language of peace and humanity needs to replace current divisive discourse with its stress on polarities and antagonisms.

International organizations of the stature of the UN need to take the lead in spearheading the above initiatives. Right now the UN gives the impression of being a spent force. This columnist hopes that he would be proved wrong on this score because the UN remains the only hope of the poor and victimized. It will be in the interests of all peoples for the UN to rejuvenate itself and dedicate itself increasingly enthusiastically to the cause of international peace.

Whether it be the South or North, dynamic, visionary political leadership and direction emerges as essential. The need is for voices that would espouse peace and accord across boundaries and divisions. For South Asia, India and Pakistan have the potential to fill this lacuna.

Features

Sri Lanka’s constitutional test: Judicial independence beyond immediate political moment

Published

13 hours ago

2026/09/3

Sahan Weerasooriya

Superior Court Complex, Colombo

by Shelton Dharmaratne

Sri Lanka has reached an important constitutional moment.

The proposed 22nd Amendment has moved beyond political debate and into the constitutional process through which its validity will be examined. That development should change the character of the national discussion.

That is understandable in a politically contested environment. But Sri Lanka should now resist reducing a question of constitutional design to a contest over political positions.

The deeper issue concerns the relationship between constitutional reform, judicial independence and public confidence in the institutions of the State.

The Supreme Court will determine the constitutional questions before it. Public commentators should therefore exercise restraint in predicting, interpreting or seeking to influence that determination. But restraint does not require silence. It requires a more rigorous discussion of the institutional principles at stake.

A narrower constitutional question than the political debate suggests

The proposed amendment principally concerns the retirement ages of judges of the Supreme Court and Court of Appeal, together with an increase in the maximum number of judges permitted on the Court of Appeal.

Under the proposal, the retirement age of Supreme Court judges would rise from 65 to 67 and that of Court of Appeal judges from 63 to 65. The maximum number of Court of Appeal judges would also increase from 19 to 24.

Other proposed changes concerning the retirement ages of judges in the lower courts arise under separate legislation. This distinction matters because the public debate has sometimes treated the wider package of judicial reform as though it formed a single constitutional proposal.

Nor should the central issue be reduced to whether retaining experienced judges is inherently good or inherently dangerous. Both propositions are too simplistic.

Sri Lanka faces a substantial burden of pending litigation, and delays in the administration of justice impose significant costs on citizens, businesses and the State. Experienced judges represent an institutional resource. Continuity, accumulated knowledge and familiarity with complex areas of law cannot always be replaced immediately.

Those are legitimate policy considerations.

But the opposing concern is equally important: judicial tenure is not merely an employment condition. It is a structural component of judicial independence.

The real question is institutional

The critical question is not whether an individual judge is capable of acting impartially. It is whether the constitutional structure provides adequate protection against circumstances in which judicial tenure could become connected, directly or indirectly, with political authority.

That is an institutional question, not an accusation against individual judges.

A judge may be entirely conscientious and independent while the institutional arrangements surrounding the judiciary nevertheless create public doubts about independence. Constitutional democracies therefore cannot depend solely on the personal integrity of office-holders. They must construct institutions capable of preserving independence even when governments, individuals and political circumstances change.

This is particularly relevant when constitutional reform concerns the tenure of serving members of the superior judiciary.

The institutional sensitivity of such a proposal should neither be exaggerated into an allegation of improper motive nor dismissed as irrelevant. The appropriate response is transparency, procedural fairness and confidence in constitutional safeguards.

Legitimate objectives do not settle constitutional questions

The government has stated that its objectives include strengthening the administration of justice, addressing delays, retaining judicial experience and increasing institutional capacity.

Those objectives deserve serious consideration. Sri Lanka needs judicial reform. Citizens waiting years for their cases to be concluded experience the justice system very differently from those discussing it in Parliament, courtrooms or universities.

A government is therefore entitled to propose reforms designed to improve judicial efficiency.

But legitimate objectives do not automatically resolve constitutional objections. The relevant question is whether the means chosen are compatible with the constitutional structure and whether sufficient safeguards exist against unintended institutional consequences.

That is precisely why constitutional scrutiny matters.

The concerns of the Bar Association of Sri Lanka (BASL) should likewise be examined without political labelling. Opposition to the proposed changes should not automatically be characterised as opposition to judicial reform or an attempt to obstruct the government. At the same time, invoking judicial independence does not place any argument beyond scrutiny.

The appropriate questions are straightforward:

Does extending judicial tenure strengthen the administration of justice?

What risks, if any, could it create for judicial independence?

Are adequate institutional safeguards in place?

Does the proposal operate prospectively, or does it affect judges already serving?

Could the same objectives be achieved by filling vacancies, increasing judicial capacity, improving court administration and strengthening case management?

These questions can be examined rationally without attributing improper motives to either side.

Judicial vacancies and institutional confidence

Recent concerns raised by the BASL regarding judicial vacancies add another dimension to the debate. The BASL has argued that vacancies in the Supreme Court contributed to the retirement of a senior Court of Appeal judge without promotion to the Supreme Court, despite vacancies having existed. It has also raised concerns regarding forthcoming judicial retirements and the need for timely consideration of appointments.

Such matters should not be treated as evidence of the motives behind the proposed amendment. They do, however, illustrate a broader principle.

Judicial independence is shaped not only by the retirement age written into the Constitution. It is also influenced by how vacancies are filled, how promotions are determined, how seniority and merit are assessed, and whether judicial officers and the public believe that institutional decisions are made according to transparent and defensible criteria.

The government has an opportunity to address these concerns constructively.

Prompt appointments based on publicly defensible principles would strengthen confidence in the judiciary irrespective of the eventual outcome of the constitutional debate.

Seniority, merit and transparent criteria

The controversy also exposes a longstanding question concerning judicial appointments.

Seniority has traditionally carried considerable weight in judicial advancement. Yet seniority alone need not be the sole measure of merit. Conversely, replacing established practices with undefined assessments of “merit” could create another institutional problem.

If governments or appointing authorities can determine which judges are sufficiently meritorious without clear and objective criteria, uncertainty itself may become a source of institutional anxiety.

Sri Lanka would therefore benefit from clearer, objective and defensible standards governing judicial appointments and promotions.

Such standards would protect judges as well as appointing authorities. They would reduce opportunities for favouritism, strengthen institutional confidence and make it harder for political actors to portray every appointment as politically motivated.

Institutional rules are stronger safeguards than assurances of good intentions.

The State is larger than any government

One principle deserves particular emphasis: a government is not the State.

Governments are temporary. The constitutional State is continuing. Political parties change, parliamentary majorities change and political priorities change. The judiciary, however, must continue to function independently of whoever occupies the government benches.

The judiciary is neither a government institution in the political sense nor an Opposition institution. It is an institution of the State whose legitimacy depends upon its independence from both.

For that reason, governments should exercise particular caution when proposing constitutional changes affecting the judiciary, even where the policy objectives are legitimate.

The stronger a government is politically, the greater its responsibility to demonstrate institutional restraint.

That is not political weakness. It is constitutional maturity.

Public confidence is a constitutional asset

The most consequential issue may ultimately be neither retirement age nor judicial capacity, but public confidence.

Courts do not possess political power in the conventional sense. Their authority rests substantially on the acceptance of their decisions as legitimate.

Citizens will sometimes disagree with judicial decisions. But where the judiciary is perceived as independent, even unpopular decisions can command respect. If judicial institutions are perceived as being shaped by political convenience, even legally sound decisions may become vulnerable to suspicion.

Constitutional reform affecting judicial tenure must therefore be evaluated not only by its immediate administrative benefits but also by its effect on institutional credibility.

A reform that produces short-term efficiency while weakening confidence in judicial independence could impose a greater long-term cost. Conversely, reform that improves efficiency while preserving independence can strengthen both justice and public trust.

The challenge is not to choose between judicial efficiency and judicial independence. It is to achieve both.

If a referendum arises …

If the constitutional process ultimately requires approval by the people at a referendum, the debate should rise above the conventional government versus Opposition contest.

The electorate should be given a clear constitutional question and sufficient information to assess it.

Citizens should understand what problem the amendment seeks to address, why the proposed mechanism is considered necessary, what institutional risks have been identified, what safeguards exist and whether alternative measures could achieve the same objectives.

A constitutional referendum deserves a higher standard of public discussion than an ordinary election campaign.

The people would not merely be choosing a political side. They would be deciding the institutional framework within which political power and judicial authority operate.

Beyond who wins

The most important question arising from the proposed Twenty-Second Amendment is therefore not simply whether the government succeeds or whether the Opposition and BASL prevail.

Nor is it ultimately whether judicial retirement ages become 67 and 65 or remain unchanged.

Those are immediate constitutional questions. The deeper issue is what Sri Lanka learns from the controversy.

If the government seeks to modernise and strengthen the justice system, that objective deserves serious consideration. If the BASL and others warn that particular reforms may affect judicial independence, those concerns deserve equally serious examination.

Neither side strengthens the country by assuming that the other is acting in bad faith.

The constitutional system is strongest when legitimate disagreements are resolved through institutions rather than political pressure.

Whatever the eventual constitutional outcome, Sri Lanka will still face the underlying challenges of judicial vacancies, case delays, institutional capacity, judicial appointments and public confidence. Those problems will not disappear with a judicial determination, nor should the national conversation end there.

Sri Lanka should instead seek a broader consensus around a fundamental proposition:

Judicial reform and judicial independence are not competing objectives.

The real challenge is to pursue reform in a manner that strengthens the judiciary without placing its independence under suspicion.

That requires sound legislation, transparent appointments, adequate resources, efficient court administration, responsible political conduct and safeguards capable of surviving changes of government.

The present controversy will eventually pass. Political arguments surrounding it will fade.

But constitutional arrangements can endure for decades.

That is why Sri Lanka must look beyond the immediate political contest.

The ultimate test is not who wins today’s constitutional argument. It is whether, when the political moment has passed, Sri Lanka has a judiciary that is more efficient, more accessible and more trusted—while remaining sufficiently independent to hold every government, including future governments, within the boundaries of the Constitution.

Features

Farewell to a Fashion Icon

Published

13 hours ago

2026/09/3

Sahan Weerasooriya

Chula was very fond of The Island newspaper and kept in touch with us on a regular basis (L) / Chula: Sent us this photo for Glam Scene, just a couple of weeks ago (R)

Sri Lanka’s fashion world lost one of its brightest stars Monday morning – veteran model, actress, and elite pageant trainer Chulpadmendra “Chula” Kumarapathirana.

Her sudden demise has certainly come as a shock to many.

Chula had just completed a major event on Sunday (30th August), and was no more in the land of the living the following day (31st August).

Born in Colombo, she was an old girl of Buddhist Ladies’ College and later studied at the National Institute of Business Management, and has many awesome achievements to her credit.

In 2006, she won the “Miss Tourism Model of the World Press Award” in Tanzania.

She entered the entertainment industry, as an actress, and gained popularity through the teledrama “Wahinna Muthu Wessak.”

Chulpadmendra has been on TV, and many Sri Lankan hip-hop music videos, including “Hanthane” and “Heena Hirimal”, and has had several other minor acting jobs since then.

She hosted the Derana Miss Sri Lanka for Miss World 2008 and even participated in the reality TV show Sirasa Dancing Star.

For over 25 years Chula was active in local and international fashion and founded the Chulpadmendra Catwalk Studio to train young newcomers

She trained hundreds of models for runway, photoshoots, auditions, and international pageants.

She was known as a fierce mentor who believed in “not just learning to walk, but learning to command the runway”.

Many young models called graduating from her studio their “happiest moment.”

Chulpadmendra “Chula” Kumarapathirana: Many young models called graduating
from her studio their “happiest moment.” (L)/ Won the “Miss Tourism Model of the World Press Award” in Tanzania (R)

Chula was very fond of The Island newspaper and kept in touch with us on a regular basis.

Her last message to The Island was a ‘thank you’ note for the article ‘New benchmark in pageant industry’:

“Thank you, Ivan, for writing such a beautiful article about me. Your unwavering support, encouragement, and belief in me throughout my career mean more than words can express. I am truly grateful for your kindness and generosity.

“My heartfelt thanks also go to The Island newspaper for featuring the article. It is a great honour, and I sincerely appreciate the recognition and support.

“Thank you once again.”

In fact, just a couple weeks ago, she sent a photo of herself for our Glam Scene and that picture I publish today, as part of this story.

May she rest in peace. Our deepest condolences to her family, students, and all who loved her.