Connect with us

Features

HAVE YOU EVER EVEN BEEN TO NEPAL?

Published

on

Terraced fields in Nepal

(Excerpted from Fallen Leaves, an anthology of memoirs by LC Arulpragasam)

In 1962, I joined FAO as the Land Tenure Officer in its Regional Office in Bangkok. Within six months I was told that I would be sacked within a week unless I retracted a certain position that I had taken on land reform in Nepal. This is the story.

The Government of Nepal had passed a tenancy reform law in 1962, based on the advice of the Ford Foundation (USA). The law provided for security of tenure along with reduced rents for tenants of agricultural land. Its provisions were roughly in the following terms. Whoever is a tenant of an agricultural land on a specified date (x) will have permanent rights of tenancy. Such a tenant cannot be evicted as long as he pays the landlord a rent of 25 per cent of the crop each year. This was as opposed to the 50 per cent of the crop that was habitually being charged by landlords in Nepal at that time. The law was praised in international circles as a brilliant piece of legislation, because it was short and simple, making any legal challenge difficult.

The legislation was sent to me for comments by my boss, Dr. Erich Jacoby, Chief of the Land Tenure Branch of FAO, Rome. I wrote back to say that while the law was short and direct, there was an implicit problem in its very first words, which said: ‘whoever is a tenant of an agricultural land on date x…’ The law did not specify how it would be decided, whether there was a tenant on the land, and how he would be identified. In practice, every landlord would say that there was no tenant on his/her land – and hence there would be no tenants to benefit from this ‘excellent’ law.

One could theoretically fall back on the land records to ascertain who was a tenant on any particular date. But it was known that Nepal did not have such land records – least of all, a record of tenancy. Some identification of each parcel of land, its extent, its ownership and tenancy would be needed for implementing such reforms – and this was completely lacking in Nepal at that time. This is in contrast to the comprehensive system of land records in British India, which provided the basis of its land tax system, whereby all lands were surveyed and registered, showing the names of all owners and their tenants, if any.

There was an even more serious problem. My experience in Sri Lanka showed that landlords would evict their tenants, claiming that they cultivated the land themselves. Or through daily-paid workers, leaving no tenants to benefit from the new law. In a semi-feudal country like Nepal at that time, it was very likely that the tenants would be intimidated by their landlords, through threat of eviction, cut-off of credit or even violence, to make them surrender their rights as tenants. Not being able to defy their landlords, they would even abjectly agree to remain as ‘hidden tenants’ with no rights under the law. In exchange, they would be allowed to continue to cultivate the land, at whatever rent the landlord decreed, and subject to eviction at any time.

Everything would depend on the mechanics by which the tenant of any land was to be identified and recorded, prior to the enforcement of the law. The law, however, by ignoring this fundamental problem, left the tenants worse off than before, subject to immediate eviction by landlords who wished to evade the new law. I had only given my above opinion to my boss, because he had asked for it. I did not know at that time that it would cause an international incident!

About one month later, FAO was informed by the UN Bureau of Public Administration, which was executing the project, that the identification and registration of tenancy rights was to be done by a cadastral surveyor, who would survey and register all agricultural lands. This left the difficult task of recording tenancy rights to a lowly surveyor (called an amin in Nepal), who was paid only the equivalent of US $1 per month at that time, thus making him utterly susceptible to bribery and intimidation. With these probable outcomes in mind, I wrote to my boss, who had again requested my opinion, that the process of registration of tenants proposed by the UN was likely to result in the cadastral surveyor merely recording that there were no tenants on the land (because the landlords had brought pressure on them) leaving no tenants to benefit from the reforms!

Little did we anticipate the reaction of the United Nations Office. First we received a reply from the Director of the UN Bureau of Public Administration, Mr. Coates, stating that such recording of ownership and tenancy rights had been done all the time by cadastral surveyors in India. He claimed that he himself, as an ex-member of the Indian Civil Service (ICS), had on many occasions adjudicated such ownership and tenancy rights based on the cadastral surveyor’s findings ‘under the peepul tree’.

When my boss persisted with my opinion, the UN Headquarters in New York complained directly to the Director-General of FAO that FAO was obstructing their programme on unfounded and uninformed grounds. This was followed also by an official complaint to the Director-General of FAO by the Nepalese Government alleging the same. Unfortunately, the Director-General of FAO, Mr. B.R. Sen had himself been an ex-member of the hallowed Indian Civil Service. He dismissed FAO’s stand as uninformed, stating that he himself had decided such ownership disputes on the basis of cadastral surveys on so many occasions ‘under the peepul tree’! Learning that I was the culprit, he ordered that I go immediately to Nepal and officially apologize and retract FAO’s position. If I did not do this within one week, my employment was to be terminated! At this juncture my boss, the Assistant Director-General in charge of the FAO Regional Office tried to protect me. But when he heard the full story, he was utterly dismayed. Although he was a Pakistani, he too had been a former member of the ICS: how many times, had he too decided such cases, based on a cadastral survey, ‘under the peepul tree’, with no difficulty (that I had predicted) at all!

By this time I did not know which I hated more, the Indian Civil Service or the peepul tree! All the top administrators in the UN system at that time seemed to be British or Indian retirees from the prestigious Indian Civil Service (ICS). So I was beginning to see this as a dispute between the ex-officials of the ICS and myself, from the Ceylon Civil Service (CCS). I still felt that I was right and that they (including my top boss in FAO, the Director-General himself) were wrong.

First, although they knew cadastral survey and land administration, this was not the issue. For the issue was whether the process that they advocated could actually identify and register a tenant under the shadow of land reform. They had actually never done this! Second, whereas they had all decided on ownership and thought that they had decided on tenancy, their inquiries had only been to identify the owners of the land for tax purposes, while completely depending on the landlords to supply the name of the tenant for the full land record.

Nepali farmers

Whereas the landlords had previously willingly provided the names of their tenants to the Indian Civil Servants, the same landlords now wished to deny that they were any tenants on their land at all! Thus the question was whether the procedures used in India for deciding on ownership for tax purposes would be adequate for deciding on tenancy for land reform purposes! Thirdly, although these top ex-ICS officers had years of experience in land administration, they had no experience of land reform.

Thus their long experience in deciding quite a different issue, in quite a different era, in quite a different social and legal dynamic, was now the biggest obstacle to their understanding the different nature of the problem and of finding a suitable solution. In the end, they turned it into a personal problem. For whereas they had all been to Nepal, it was known that I had not! It got even worse when they saw me, for I looked even younger than my 32 years at that time!

Although I was convinced that I was right, I now had no option but to go – as instructed – to Nepal to eat humble pie and retract my position. I was snubbed by the UNDP Representative in Delhi – and it got worse when I reached Nepal. The Permanent Secretary of the Ministry of Planning refused to see me. I was sent down to the Joint Secretary who was unnecessarily brusque. Although I had decided to capitulate and eat my piece of humble pie, I had to make a pretence of looking into the matter. So I asked to visit a village where the cadastral survey and land registration had already taken place according to the procedures prescribed by the UN. The Joint Secretary asked me where I wished to go. Not knowing anything about Nepal, I jabbed wildly at the map. He remarked drily that I was pointing to the Himalayas, but he could get me as far as Pokhara in the foothills, but that I would have to walk from there!

So I set out early next morning to Pokhara by plane, which in those days landed in a grass field. Accompanied by a senior surveyor who was to be my interpreter and guide, we walked for a full day to get to the village that I had fortuitously chosen. It was a thrilling experience, walking in the silence of the mountains with the snow-clad Himalayan peaks towering above me. In one place, I also had the thunder of water from a subterranean river shaking the ground beneath me. I reached the selected village by nightfall. When I examined the cadastral map and land record prepared by the cadastral surveyor, it showed that all the lands were cultivated by their owners, either as owner-cultivators or through daily-paid workers supervised by them. Since the record showed no tenants, there would be no beneficiaries of the land reform in this village.

The next morning at daybreak, I positioned myself on the path to the fields, so that I could meet the farmers going to and from their fields. I tackled one in about every four farmers, asking more or less the same question: ‘Are you a tenant?’ Every one of them answered that he was either an owner cultivator or a daily-paid worker, although most seemed to be too poor to be owners of their own land. I repeated the process at eventide, when the farmers returned from their fields, but I always received the same reply. I spent the whole of the next day asking the same question and getting the same answer. In desperation, I requested a meeting of all farmers on my last evening in the hope that group dynamics might reveal a glimpse of the true picture. But even at this meeting, I received the same response.

At this point, the only well-dressed man spoke up, saying: ‘Sir, because of your perseverance and hard work, I need to speak out, since none of the others here can afford to do so. These poor men here have been lying to you for the past two days: they are all tenants. They have been informed in advance of your arrival and have been instructed by their landlords to say that they are not tenants. In fact, they have been threatened with eviction and violence – and two of them, even with death’. At these words, there was a babble of voices, all wanting to speak. They burst out that they were indeed tenants, but had been threatened with eviction by their landlords if they claimed the same. I invited each one to speak – and each one said the same thing.

I then took out the already completed cadastral map and went over it with them. I asked the entire group whether there was a tenant on each lot of land, going over all the lots in turn. They unanimously answered: ’Yes, so-and-so is the tenant’ in respect of each lot, with 100 per cent agreement. After recording the name of the tenant and of the owner against each piece of land, I had a new land record made, which was confirmed by the entire village. And it was the exact opposite of that recorded by the cadastral surveyor, following the procedures prescribed by the UN!

Whereas the latter showed that there were no tenants on any of these lands, my records showed that there was 100 per cent tenancy on all lands in this particular village. This meant that if the land reform had proceeded on the basis of the cadastral records prepared by the Government and championed by my own FAO Director-General, there would not have been any tenants to protect and thus no beneficiaries under the land reform law!

Having got the new land record confirmed by the senior surveyor, I then had to walk an extra day to get the endorsement of the Zonal Commissioner. On the next day, in Kathmandu, I had to report my findings to the Joint Secretary, who had also invited Dr. Lindsay, the author of the land reform legislation, to the meeting. They were astounded to find that their system of identifying tenants had provided 100 per cent wrong information. Instead of retracting my position and apologizing to the Government and the UN, I was now able to prove that I had been right all along, even though I had never been to Nepal before!

I also became a favourite of the Ministry at that time. The Minister himself would come to the airport to meet me on each of my subsequent visits. The Government requested me to formulate an FAO project for assistance to its land reform programme. I introduced a new system for the identification of tenants based on the participation of both the tenants and owners through public village meetings – which was adopted by the Government in the 1960s. This episode proved to be a personal and professional triumph for me in the early days, since I had proved even the Director-General of FAO and his Assistant-Director-General for the Asian Region, as well as the UNDP, the UN Bureau of Public Administration, the Ford Foundation and the Government of Nepal, all to be wrong! I was only 32 years old at that time – and had never been to Nepal when I first gave my opinion on the issue.



Continue Reading
Advertisement
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Features

Cricket and the National Interest

Published

on

The appointment of former minister Eran Wickremaratne to chair the Sri Lanka Cricket Transformation Committee is significant for more than the future of cricket. It signals a possible shift in the culture of governance even as it offers Sri Lankan cricket a fighting possibility to get out of the doldrums of failure. There have been glorious patches for the national cricket team since the epochal 1996 World Cup triumph. But these patches of brightness have been few and far between and virtually non-existent over the past decade. At the centre of this disaster has been the failures of governance within Sri Lanka Cricket which are not unlike the larger failures of governance within the country itself. The appointment of a new reform oriented committee therefore carries significance beyond cricket. It reflects the wider challenge facing the country which is to restore trust in public institutions for better management.

The appointment of Eran Wickremaratne brings a professional administrator with a proven track record into the cricket arena. He has several strengths that many of his immediate predecessors lacked. Before the ascent of the present government leadership to positions of power, Eran Wickremaratne was among the handful of government ministers who did not have allegations of corruption attached to their names. His reputation for financial professionalism and integrity has remained intact over many years in public life. With him in the Cricket Transformation Committee are also respected former cricketers Kumar Sangakkara, Roshan Mahanama and Sidath Wettimuny together with professionals from legal and business backgrounds. They have been tasked with introducing structural reforms and improving transparency and accountability within cricket administration.

A second reason for this appointment to be significant is that this is possibly the first occasion on which the NPP government has reached out to someone associated with the opposition to obtain assistance in an area of national importance. The commitment to bipartisanship has been a constant demand from politically non-partisan civic groups and political analysts. They have voiced the opinion that the government needs to be more inclusive in its choice of appointments to decision making authorities. The NPP government’s practice so far has largely been to limit appointments to those within the ruling party or those considered loyalists even at the cost of proven expertise. The government’s decision in this case therefore marks a potentially important departure.

National Interest

There are areas of public life where national interest should transcend party divisions and cricket, beloved of the people, is one of them. Sri Lanka cannot afford to continue treating every institution as an arena for political competition when institutions themselves are in crisis and public confidence has become fragile. It is therefore unfortunate that when the government has moved positively in the direction of drawing on expertise from outside its own ranks there should be a negative response from sections of the opposition. This is indicative of the absence of a culture of bipartisanship even on issues that concern the national interest. The SJB, of which the newly appointed cricket committee chairman was a member objected on the grounds that politicians should not hold positions in sports administration and asked him to resign from the party. There is a need to recognise the distinction between partisan political control and the temporary use of experienced administrators to carry out reform and institutional restructuring. In other countries those in politics often join academia and civil society on a temporary basis and vice versa.

More disturbing has been the insidious campaign carried out against the new cricket committee and its chairman on the grounds of religious affiliation. This is an unacceptable denial of the reality that Sri Lanka is a plural, multi ethnic and multi religious society. The interim committee reflects this diversity to a reasonable extent. The country’s long history of ethnic conflict should have taught all political actors the dangers of mobilising communal prejudice for short term political gain. Sri Lanka paid a very heavy price for decades of mistrust and division. It would be tragic if even cricket administration became another arena for communal suspicion and hostility. The present government represents an important departure from the sectarian rhetoric that was employed by previous governments. They have repeatedly pledged to protect the equal rights of all citizens and not permit discrimination or extremism in any form.

The recent international peace march in Sri Lanka led by the Venerable Bhikkhu Thich Paññākāra from Vietnam with its message of loving kindness and mindfulness to all resonated strongly with the masses of people as seen by the crowds who thronged the roadsides to obtain blessings and show respect. This message stands in contrast to the sectarian resentment manifested by those who seek to use the cricket appointments as a weapon to attack the government at the present time. The challenges before the Sri Lanka Cricket Transformation Committee parallel the larger challenges before the government in developing the national economy and respecting ethnic and religious diversity. Plugging the leaks and restoring systems will take time and effort. It cannot be done overnight and it cannot succeed without public patience and support.

New Recognition

There is also a need for realism. The appointment of Eran Wickremaratne and the new committee does not guarantee success. Reforming deeply flawed institutions is always difficult. Besides, Sri Lanka is a small country with a relatively small population compared to many other cricket playing nations. It is also a country still recovering from the economic breakdown of 2022 which pushed the majority of people into hardship and severely weakened public institutions. The country continues to face unprecedented challenges including the damage caused by Cyclone Ditwah and the wider global economic uncertainties linked to conflict in the Middle East. Under these difficult circumstances Sri Lanka has fewer resources than many larger countries to devote to both cricket and economic development.

When resources are scarce they cannot be wasted through corruption or incompetence. Drawing upon the strengths of all those who are competent for the tasks at hand regardless of party affiliation or ethnic or religious identity is necessary if improvement is to come sooner rather than later. The burden of rebuilding the country cannot rest only on the government. The crisis facing the country is too deep for any single party or government to solve alone. National recovery requires capable individuals from across society and from different sectors such as business and civil society to work together in areas where the national interest transcends party politics. There is also a responsibility on opposition political parties to support initiatives that are politically neutral and genuinely in the national interest. Not every issue needs to become a partisan battle.

Sri Lanka cricket occupies a special place in the national consciousness. At its best it once united the country and gave Sri Lankans a sense of pride and international recognition. Restoring integrity and professionalism to cricket administration can therefore become part of the larger task of national renewal. The appointment of Eran Wickremaratne and the new committee, while it does not guarantee success, is a sign that the political leadership and people of the country may be beginning to mature in their approach to governance. In recognising the need for competence, integrity and bipartisan cooperation and extending it beyond cricket into other areas of national life, Sri Lanka may find the way towards more stable and successful governance..

by Jehan Perera

Continue Reading

Features

From Dhaka to Sri Lanka, three wheels that drive our economies

Published

on

Court vacation this year came with an unexpected lesson, not from a courtroom but from the streets of Dhaka — a city that moves, quite literally, on three wheels.

Above the traffic, a modern metro line glides past concrete pillars and crowded rooftops. It is efficient, clean and frequently cited as a symbol of progress in Bangladesh. For a visitor from Sri Lanka, it inevitably brings to mind our own abandoned light rail plans — a project debated, politicised and ultimately set aside.

But Dhaka’s real story is not in the air. It is on the ground.

Beneath the elevated tracks, the streets belong to three-wheelers. Known locally as CNGs, they cluster at junctions, line the edges of markets and pour into narrow roads that larger vehicles avoid. Even with a functioning rail system, these three-wheelers remain the city’s most dependable form of everyday transport.

Within hours of arriving, their importance becomes obvious. The train may take you across the city, but the journey does not end there. The last mile — often the most complicated part — belongs entirely to the three-wheeler. It is the vehicle that gets you home, to a meeting or simply through streets that no bus route properly serves.

There is a rhythm to using them. A destination is mentioned, a price is suggested and a brief negotiation follows. Then the ride begins, edging into traffic that feels permanently compressed. Drivers move with instinct, adjusting routes and squeezing through gaps with a confidence built over years.

It is not polished. But it works.

And that is where the comparison with Sri Lanka becomes less about what we lack and more about what we already have.

Back home, the three-wheeler has long been part of daily life — so familiar that it is often discussed only in terms of its problems. There are frequent complaints about fares, refusals or the absence of meters. More recently, the industry itself has become entangled in politics — from fuel subsidies to regulatory debates, from election-time promises to periodic crackdowns.

In that process, the conversation has shifted. The three-wheeler is often treated as a problem to be managed, rather than a service to be strengthened.

Yet, seen through the experience of Dhaka, Sri Lanka’s system begins to look far more settled — and, in many ways, ahead.

There is a growing structure in place. Meters, while not perfect, are widely recognised. Ride-hailing apps have added transparency and reduced uncertainty for passengers. There are clearer expectations on both sides — driver and commuter alike. Even small details, such as designated parking areas in parts of Colombo or the increasing standard of vehicles, point to an industry slowly moving towards professionalism.

Just as importantly, there is a human element that remains intact.

In Sri Lanka, a three-wheeler ride is rarely just a transaction. Drivers talk. They offer directions, comment on the day’s news, or share local knowledge. The ride becomes part of the social fabric, not just a means of getting from one point to another.

In Dhaka, the scale of the city leaves less room for that. The interaction is quicker, more direct, shaped by urgency. The service is essential, but it is under constant pressure.

What stands out, across both countries, is that the three-wheeler is not a temporary or outdated mode of transport. It is a necessity in dense, fast-growing Asian cities — one that fills gaps no rail or bus system can fully address.

Large infrastructure projects, like light rail, are important. They bring efficiency and long-term capacity. But they cannot replace the flexibility of a three-wheeler. They cannot reach into narrow streets, respond instantly to demand or provide that crucial last-mile connection.

That is why, even in a city that has invested heavily in modern rail, Dhaka still runs on three wheels.

For Sri Lanka, the lesson is not simply about what could have been built, but about what should be better managed and valued.

The three-wheeler industry does not need to be politicised at every turn. It needs steady regulation — clear fare systems, proper licensing, safety standards — alongside encouragement and recognition. It needs to be seen as part of the solution to urban transport, not as a side issue.

Because for thousands of drivers, it is a livelihood. And for millions of passengers, it is the most immediate and reliable form of mobility.

The tuk-tuk may not feature in grand policy speeches or infrastructure blueprints. It does not run on elevated tracks or attract international attention. But on the ground, where daily life unfolds, it continues to do what larger systems often struggle to do — show up, adapt and keep moving.

And after watching Dhaka’s streets — crowded, relentless, yet functioning — that small, three-wheeled vehicle feels less like something to argue over and more like something to get right.

(The writer is an Attorney-at-Law with over a decade of experience specialising in civil law, a former Board Member of the Office of Missing Persons and a former Legal Director of the Central Cultural Fund. He holds an LLM in International Business Law)

 

by Sampath Perera recently in Dhaka, Bangladesh 

Continue Reading

Features

Dubai scene … opening up

Published

on

Seven Notes: Operating in Dubai

According to reports coming my way, the entertainment scene, in Dubai, is very much opening up, and buzzing again!

After a quieter few months, May is packed with entertainment and the whole scene, they say, is shifting back into full swing.

The Seven Notes band, made up of Sri Lankans, based in Dubai, are back in the spotlight, after a short hiatus, due to the ongoing Middle East problems.

On 18th April they did Legends Night at Mercure Hotel Dubai Barsha Heights; on Thursday, 9th May, they will be at the Sports Bar of the Mercure Hotel for 70s/80s Retro Night; on 6th June, they will be at Al Jadaf Dubai to provide the music for Sandun Perera live in concert … and with more dates to follow.

These events are expected to showcase the band’s evolving sound, tighter stage coordination, and stronger audience engagement.

With each performance, the band aims to refine its identity and build a loyal following within Dubai’s vibrant nightlife and event scene.

Pasindu Umayanga: The group’s new vocalist

What makes Seven Notes standout is their versatility which has made the band a dynamic and promising act.

With a growing performance calendar, new talent integration, and international ambitions, the band is definitely entering a defining phase of its journey.

Dubai’s music industry, I’m told, thrives on diversity, energy, and audience connection, with live bands playing a crucial role in elevating events—from corporate shows to private concerts. Against this backdrop, Seven Notes is positioning itself not just as another band, but as a performance-driven musical unit focused on consistency and growth.

Adding fresh momentum to the group is Pasindu Umayanga who joins Seven Notes as their new vocalist. This move signals a strategic upgrade—not just filling a role, but strengthening the band’s front-line presence.

Looking beyond local stages, Seven Notes is preparing for an international tour, to Korea, in July.

Bassist Niluk Uswaththa: Spokesperson for Seven Notes

According to bassist Niluk Uswaththa, taking a band abroad means: Your sound must hold up against unfamiliar audiences, your performance must translate beyond language, and your discipline must be at a professional level.

“If executed well, this tour could redefine Seven Notes from a local band into an emerging international act,” added Niluk.

He went on to say that Dubai is not an easy market. It’s saturated with highly experienced, multi-genre bands that can adapt instantly to any crowd.

“To stand out consistently you need to have tight rehearsal discipline, unique sound identity (not just covers), strong stage chemistry, audience retention – not just applause.”

No doubt, Seven Notes is entering a critical growth phase—new member, multiple shows, and an international tour on the horizon. The opportunity is real, but so is the pressure.

However, there is talk that Seven Notes will soon be a recognised name in the regional music scene.

Continue Reading

Trending