Features
Nipping the two leaves and the bud
” The locals were not interested in working in the plantations sector, so people were brought from India to work here.”
As a 16-year-old sitting my GCE O/L examination, I never realised the gravity of these words. Presented to us as an afterthought when discussing the history of our country, I could not see how an entire community and their story of struggle were erased. Nor could I understand the importance of this brief statement against the backdrop of endless historical political reforms. Our texts drew attention to the needs of ‘locals’ and how labour could be easily acquired from elsewhere to suit the whims of our former British colonial masters, dead set on introducing coffee plantations. However, delving into the process of acquiring this labour, the conditions of existence leading to their taking up this arduous task, or this crude objectification of an individual, where they were “brought” to another country, without their consent, was missing in our grand narrative of Sri Lankan history and insignificant, as our sole purpose was passing our examination. Our conformity in unconsciously othering a group of people from the outset of their entry to this country as second-class citizens did not register in our 16-year-old heads.
Interestingly, however, while erasing the existence of those who labour on the plantations, with any reference to Sri Lanka globally, the camera naturally redirects itself towards the flourishing plantations. Greeted with the ever-smiling and welcoming faces of women carrying their straw baskets, plucking tea leaves with their nimble fingers, we stay true to our household name, confirming tea as an unerasable part of our identity as Sri Lankans. With proper branding and quality control at work, tea as a graded commodity has been exported throughout the years, establishing a secure global market and making a remarkable contribution to Sri Lanka’s revenue. Today, tourists can even afford the luxury of briefly testing their tea-plucking skills at plantations as part of their “Sri Lankan experience”. Sumathy Sivamohan, in her Kuppi Column “Two leaves and a bud: the history of Malaiyaham as pedagogy” (02.01.2024), traces the history of this tea plucker, their community, and their marginalisation since their arrival in Sri Lanka almost 200 years ago. Although allowed to feel as ‘rightfully’ part of the country with the Citizenship Act (2003), to this day, the Malaiyaga community, given their ties to a bygone Indian ancestry, are not afforded the amenities available to their peers. Gnannamuttu, in his book “Education and the Indian Plantation Worker in Sri Lanka”, quotes H. W. Cave on “a little too much education and unaccustomed luxury [unfitting] these children [of the plantation sector] for their calling…” Accordingly, private initiatives introduced night (line) schools and missionary education to this community to keep a check on their identity. However, these initiatives stood strong in their unwillingness to enter the expensive enterprise of ‘properly’ educating these outsiders at the cost of their produce, as a labourer’s primary ‘calling’ was tending to the plantations. Even with the government taking over these estate schools and Sri Lanka’s famed non-discriminatory free education policy being implemented, as stipulated in the Kannangara Bill (1945), this community was initially left stranded in the margins. According to Mr Rajendran, formerly President of the National College of Education-Batticaloa, our country was better equipped to train planters at managerial levels, as offered in some universities, indifferent to the concerns of the ever-smiling and ever-toiling tea plucker growing the tea straddling the margins of statelessness and citizenship to this day. Stark is this entanglement where there is a need to stunt this community’s growth through literacy and education while simultaneously ensuring they are only ‘fit’ to nip the two leaves and the bud. Thus, this community’s pick-up on the rat race towards development, literacy, and social mobility had been delayed by the state, and to date they are sprinting to keep up.
Upon attending an educational conference on Malaiyagam, in Hatto, earlier this year, I found the audience’s responses to the research conducted informative, especially on the quality of education afforded to this region. Concerns in student retention rates in the primary and secondary sections were brought up by teachers who made short work of shifting the blame towards the parents. It was also mentioned that students of this region have difficulties entering universities in the Maths and Science streams, and even those interested in pursuing the above or other technical subjects that would secure employment were often encouraged by their teachers to choose either Commerce or Arts, more commonly available to them for their GCE (A/L) examination. The teachers’ rationale for such encouragement is the high expenditure in acquiring this education, even after entering university. However, the unavailability of competent teachers and infrastructure facilities in the plantation sector to offer these STEM subjects undoubtedly bears some weight. Skipping our irreplaceable support system of tuition considered ‘compulsory’ for the GCE (A/L), here concerns were raised on the availability of basic Type 1AB schooling facilities afforded to this community. Students from all over the plantation sector temporarily relocate, crowding around the scarce schooling options available to them in the central hills for their A/L examinations in the Maths and Science streams. Understandably, even with the government increasing the allocations for university entrants from the plantation sector in these streams, the achievement rates fall heavily short of the estimates without the proper guidance or infrastructure facilities. Interesting, also are the subjects offered under the Arts Stream, mostly Geography, Political Science, and Tamil. On paper, this combination is most viable to improve the chances of students entering the Teaching College or University. However, attention must be given to the curricular contents at these students’ disposal for two long years. For instance, what is considered a sound knowledge of these subjects at the GCE (A/L), if there is no discussion on the geographical constraints, the land rights, and the possible solutions offered to the inhabitants of this mountainous terrain? Where are the debates on the blatant human rights violations this community has been subjected to and their ongoing marginalisation? With exacting standards of what is acceptable for an examination through a grading system, the state has made a checklist of what constitutes education, and the students accept as gospel truth a fantasy that completely opposes their lived reality. Within the labels of geography, politics, or history, the student is afforded a sense of how a world works, yet no space is given to question its relevance to the student’s life. Armed with a strong combination of subjects to voice their concerns yet blunting their weapons from subverting the structures crippling them, this community continues to struggle for equality, incapable of tracing their history. The ideological manipulations of this country, ensuring the social demarcations and the identity of Malayaigham as fashioned by them in common discourse, persist through the existing system of education is concerning. Stuck within an endless loop of education that reinforces the social hierarchies, be it geography, political science, or history, these subjects do not offer the students space for dialogue that would bring about change; instead, they accept their lot in life, fearful of being further ousted by society. Accordingly, their conformity to the norm and silence enable their entry as a subject of society at the cost of their community.
Education should be a dialogue. To ensure that learning takes place, we should be willing to not just memorise but also observe, speak, and engage with the information that comes our way. Are we satisfied with a system of learning that assigns grades on an individual’s capacity to retain information without them understanding the contents memorised? What then is the purpose of a teacher? Is it not our concern that our students are incapable of relating what they learn to who they are? Where and how is learning happening if the contents memorised do not translate to a critical engagement with reality and a stepping stone towards social change? This community can fashion an identity for themselves as Malaiyagaham and grow further into their sense of self both within and outside the labels of tea plucker, estate worker, kallathoni, etc., we as a society have plastered upon them if there is room for transformation through education.
The two leaves and the bud, commonly refer to the best part of a tea shrub, is sought after for its tender shoots. Nipping it in the bud ensures such richness remains exclusive to the few willing to pay the right price. Restricting access to a quality education to this day, are we still echoing Cave’s sentiments? Are we nipping at the identity of the Malaiyaga community and stunting their richness and space for growth, fearful of their potential or fearful of the price we will have to pay?
(Selvaraj Vishvika is a teacher and researcher)
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
By Selvaraj Vishvika
Features
Rebuilding the country requires consultation
A positive feature of the government that is emerging is its responsiveness to public opinion. The manner in which it has been responding to the furore over the Grade 6 English Reader, in which a weblink to a gay dating site was inserted, has been constructive. Government leaders have taken pains to explain the mishap and reassure everyone concerned that it was not meant to be there and would be removed. They have been meeting religious prelates, educationists and community leaders. In a context where public trust in institutions has been badly eroded over many years, such responsiveness matters. It signals that the government sees itself as accountable to society, including to parents, teachers, and those concerned about the values transmitted through the school system.
This incident also appears to have strengthened unity within the government. The attempt by some opposition politicians and gender misogynists to pin responsibility for this lapse on Prime Minister Dr Harini Amarasuriya, who is also the Minister of Education, has prompted other senior members of the government to come to her defence. This is contrary to speculation that the powerful JVP component of the government is unhappy with the prime minister. More importantly, it demonstrates an understanding within the government that individual ministers should not be scapegoated for systemic shortcomings. Effective governance depends on collective responsibility and solidarity within the leadership, especially during moments of public controversy.
The continuing important role of the prime minister in the government is evident in her meetings with international dignitaries and also in addressing the general public. Last week she chaired the inaugural meeting of the Presidential Task Force to Rebuild Sri Lanka in the aftermath of Cyclone Ditwah. The composition of the task force once again reflects the responsiveness of the government to public opinion. Unlike previous mechanisms set up by governments, which were either all male or without ethnic minority representation, this one includes both, and also includes civil society representation. Decision-making bodies in which there is diversity are more likely to command public legitimacy.
Task Force
The Presidential Task Force to Rebuild Sri Lanka overlooks eight committees to manage different aspects of the recovery, each headed by a sector minister. These committees will focus on Needs Assessment, Restoration of Public Infrastructure, Housing, Local Economies and Livelihoods, Social Infrastructure, Finance and Funding, Data and Information Systems, and Public Communication. This structure appears comprehensive and well designed. However, experience from post-disaster reconstruction in countries such as Indonesia and Sri Lanka after the 2004 tsunami suggests that institutional design alone does not guarantee success. What matters equally is how far these committees engage with those on the ground and remain open to feedback that may complicate, slow down, or even challenge initial plans.
An option that the task force might wish to consider is to develop a linkage with civil society groups with expertise in the areas that the task force is expected to work. The CSO Collective for Emergency Relief has set up several committees that could be linked to the committees supervised by the task force. Such linkages would not weaken the government’s authority but strengthen it by grounding policy in lived realities. Recent findings emphasise the idea of “co-production”, where state and society jointly shape solutions in which sustainable outcomes often emerge when communities are treated not as passive beneficiaries but as partners in problem-solving.
Cyclone Ditwah destroyed more than physical infrastructure. It also destroyed communities. Some were swallowed by landslides and floods, while many others will need to be moved from their homes as they live in areas vulnerable to future disasters. The trauma of displacement is not merely material but social and psychological. Moving communities to new locations requires careful planning. It is not simply a matter of providing people with houses. They need to be relocated to locations and in a manner that permits communities to live together and to have livelihoods. This will require consultation with those who are displaced. Post-disaster evaluations have acknowledged that relocation schemes imposed without community consent often fail, leading to abandonment of new settlements or the emergence of new forms of marginalisation. Even today, abandoned tsunami housing is to be seen in various places that were affected by the 2004 tsunami.
Malaiyaha Tamils
The large-scale reconstruction that needs to take place in parts of the country most severely affected by Cyclone Ditwah also brings an opportunity to deal with the special problems of the Malaiyaha Tamil population. These are people of recent Indian origin who were unjustly treated at the time of Independence and denied rights of citizenship such as land ownership and the vote. This has been a festering problem and a blot on the conscience of the country. The need to resettle people living in those parts of the hill country which are vulnerable to landslides is an opportunity to do justice by the Malaiyaha Tamil community. Technocratic solutions such as high-rise apartments or English-style townhouses that have or are being contemplated may be cost-effective, but may also be culturally inappropriate and socially disruptive. The task is not simply to build houses but to rebuild communities.
The resettlement of people who have lost their homes and communities requires consultation with them. In the same manner, the education reform programme, of which the textbook controversy is only a small part, too needs to be discussed with concerned stakeholders including school teachers and university faculty. Opening up for discussion does not mean giving up one’s own position or values. Rather, it means recognising that better solutions emerge when different perspectives are heard and negotiated. Consultation takes time and can be frustrating, particularly in contexts of crisis where pressure for quick results is intense. However, solutions developed with stakeholder participation are more resilient and less costly in the long run.
Rebuilding after Cyclone Ditwah, addressing historical injustices faced by the Malaiyaha Tamil community, advancing education reform, changing the electoral system to hold provincial elections without further delay and other challenges facing the government, including national reconciliation, all require dialogue across differences and patience with disagreement. Opening up for discussion is not to give up on one’s own position or values, but to listen, to learn, and to arrive at solutions that have wider acceptance. Consultation needs to be treated as an investment in sustainability and legitimacy and not as an obstacle to rapid decisionmaking. Addressing the problems together, especially engagement with affected parties and those who work with them, offers the best chance of rebuilding not only physical infrastructure but also trust between the government and people in the year ahead.
by Jehan Perera
Features
PSTA: Terrorism without terror continues
When the government appointed a committee, led by Rienzie Arsekularatne, Senior President’s Counsel, to draft a new law to replace the Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA), as promised by the ruling NPP, the writer, in an article published in this journal in July 2025, expressed optimism that, given Arsekularatne’s experience in criminal justice, he would be able to address issues from the perspectives of the State, criminal justice, human rights, suspects, accused, activists, and victims. The draft Protection of the State from Terrorism Act (PSTA), produced by the Committee, has been sharply criticised by individuals and organisations who expected a better outcome that aligns with modern criminal justice and human rights principles.
This article is limited to a discussion of the definition of terrorism. As the writer explained previously, the dangers of an overly broad definition go beyond conviction and increased punishment. Special laws on terrorism allow deviations from standard laws in areas such as preventive detention, arrest, administrative detention, restrictions on judicial decisions regarding bail, lengthy pre-trial detention, the use of confessions, superadded punishments, such as confiscation of property and cancellation of professional licences, banning organisations, and restrictions on publications, among others. The misuse of such laws is not uncommon. Drastic legislation, such as the PTA and emergency regulations, although intended to be used to curb intense violence and deal with emergencies, has been exploited to suppress political opposition.
International Standards
The writer’s basic premise is that, for an act to come within the definition of terrorism, it must either involve “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” or be committed to achieve an objective of an individual or organisation that uses “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” to realise its aims. The UN General Assembly has accepted that the threshold for a possible general offence of terrorism is the provocation of “a state of terror” (Resolution 60/43). The Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe has taken a similar view, using the phrase “to create a climate of terror.”
In his 2023 report on the implementation of the UN Global Counter-Terrorism Strategy, the Secretary-General warned that vague and overly broad definitions of terrorism in domestic law, often lacking adequate safeguards, violate the principle of legality under international human rights law. He noted that such laws lead to heavy-handed, ineffective, and counterproductive counter-terrorism practices and are frequently misused to target civil society actors and human rights defenders by labelling them as terrorists to obstruct their work.
The United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) has stressed in its Handbook on Criminal Justice Responses to Terrorism that definitions of terrorist acts must use precise and unambiguous language, narrowly define punishable conduct and clearly distinguish it from non-punishable behaviour or offences subject to other penalties. The handbook was developed over several months by a team of international experts, including the writer, and was finalised at a workshop in Vienna.
Anti-Terrorism Bill, 2023
A five-member Bench of the Supreme Court that examined the Anti-Terrorism Bill, 2023, agreed with the petitioners that the definition of terrorism in the Bill was too broad and infringed Article 12(1) of the Constitution, and recommended that an exemption (“carve out”) similar to that used in New Zealand under which “the fact that a person engages in any protest, advocacy, or dissent, or engages in any strike, lockout, or other industrial action, is not, by itself, a sufficient basis for inferring that the person” committed the wrongful acts that would otherwise constitute terrorism.
While recognising the Court’s finding that the definition was too broad, the writer argued, in his previous article, that the political, administrative, and law enforcement cultures of the country concerned are crucial factors to consider. Countries such as New Zealand are well ahead of developing nations, where the risk of misuse is higher, and, therefore, definitions should be narrower, with broader and more precise exemptions. How such a “carve out” would play out in practice is uncertain.
In the Supreme Court, it was submitted that for an act to constitute an offence, under a special law on terrorism, there must be terror unleashed in the commission of the act, or it must be carried out in pursuance of the object of an organisation that uses terror to achieve its objectives. In general, only acts that aim at creating “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” should come under the definition of terrorism. There can be terrorism-related acts without violence, for example, when a member of an extremist organisation remotely sabotages an electronic, automated or computerised system in pursuance of the organisation’s goal. But when the same act is committed by, say, a whizz-kid without such a connection, that would be illegal and should be punished, but not under a special law on terrorism. In its determination of the Bill, the Court did not address this submission.
PSTA Proposal
Proposed section 3(1) of the PSTA reads:
Any person who, intentionally or knowingly, commits any act which causes a consequence specified in subsection (2), for the purpose of-
(a) provoking a state of terror;
(b) intimidating the public or any section of the public;
(c) compelling the Government of Sri Lanka, or any other Government, or an international organisation, to do or to abstain from doing any act; or
(d) propagating war, or violating territorial integrity or infringing the sovereignty of Sri Lanka or any other sovereign country, commits the offence of terrorism.
The consequences listed in sub-section (2) include: death; hurt; hostage-taking; abduction or kidnapping; serious damage to any place of public use, any public property, any public or private transportation system or any infrastructure facility or environment; robbery, extortion or theft of public or private property; serious risk to the health and safety of the public or a section of the public; serious obstruction or damage to, or interference with, any electronic or automated or computerised system or network or cyber environment of domains assigned to, or websites registered with such domains assigned to Sri Lanka; destruction of, or serious damage to, religious or cultural property; serious obstruction or damage to, or interference with any electronic, analogue, digital or other wire-linked or wireless transmission system, including signal transmission and any other frequency-based transmission system; without lawful authority, importing, exporting, manufacturing, collecting, obtaining, supplying, trafficking, possessing or using firearms, offensive weapons, ammunition, explosives, articles or things used in the manufacture of explosives or combustible or corrosive substances and biological, chemical, electric, electronic or nuclear weapons, other nuclear explosive devices, nuclear material, radioactive substances, or radiation-emitting devices.
Under section 3(5), “any person who commits an act which constitutes an offence under the nine international treaties on terrorism, ratified by Sri Lanka, also commits the offence of terrorism.” No one would contest that.
The New Zealand “carve-out” is found in sub-section (4): “The fact that a person engages in any protest, advocacy or dissent or engages in any strike, lockout or other industrial action, is not by itself a sufficient basis for inferring that such person (a) commits or attempts, abets, conspires, or prepares to commit the act with the intention or knowledge specified in subsection (1); or (b) is intending to cause or knowingly causes an outcome specified in subsection (2).”
While the Arsekularatne Committee has proposed, including the New Zealand “carve out”, it has ignored a crucial qualification in section 5(2) of that country’s Terrorism Suppression Act, that for an act to be considered a terrorist act, it must be carried out for one or more purposes that are or include advancing “an ideological, political, or religious cause”, with the intention of either intimidating a population or coercing or forcing a government or an international organisation to do or abstain from doing any act.
When the Committee was appointed, the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka opined that any new offence with respect to “terrorism” should contain a specific and narrow definition of terrorism, such as the following: “Any person who by the use of force or violence unlawfully targets the civilian population or a segment of the civilian population with the intent to spread fear among such population or segment thereof in furtherance of a political, ideological, or religious cause commits the offence of terrorism”.
The writer submits that, rather than bringing in the requirement of “a political, ideological, or religious cause”, it would be prudent to qualify proposed section 3(1) by the requirement that only acts that aim at creating “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” or are carried out to achieve a goal of an individual or organisation that employs “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” to attain its objectives should come under the definition of terrorism. Such a threshold is recognised internationally; no “carve out” is then needed, and the concerns of the Human Rights Commission would also be addressed.
by Dr. Jayampathy Wickramaratne
President’s Counsel
Features
ROCK meets REGGAE 2026
We generally have in our midst the famous JAYASRI twins, Rohitha and Rohan, who are based in Austria but make it a point to entertain their fans in Sri Lanka on a regular basis.
Well, rock and reggae fans get ready for a major happening on 28th February (Oops, a special day where I’m concerned!) as the much-awaited ROCK meets REGGAE event booms into action at the Nelum Pokuna outdoor theatre.
It was seven years ago, in 2019, that the last ROCK meets REGGAE concert was held in Colombo, and then the Covid scene cropped up.

Chitral Somapala with BLACK MAJESTY
This year’s event will feature our rock star Chitral Somapala with the Australian Rock+Metal band BLACK MAJESTY, and the reggae twins Rohitha and Rohan Jayalath with the original JAYASRI – the full band, with seven members from Vienna, Austria.
According to Rohitha, the JAYASRI outfit is enthusiastically looking forward to entertaining music lovers here with their brand of music.
Their playlist for 28th February will consist of the songs they do at festivals in Europe, as well as originals, and also English and Sinhala hits, and selected covers.
Says Rohitha: “We have put up a great team, here in Sri Lanka, to give this event an international setting and maintain high standards, and this will be a great experience for our Sri Lankan music lovers … not only for Rock and Reggae fans. Yes, there will be some opening acts, and many surprises, as well.”

Rohitha, Chitral and Rohan: Big scene at ROCK meets REGGAE
Rohitha and Rohan also conveyed their love and festive blessings to everyone in Sri Lanka, stating “This Christmas was different as our country faced a catastrophic situation and, indeed, it’s a great time to help and share the real love of Jesus Christ by helping the poor, the needy and the homeless people. Let’s RISE UP as a great nation in 2026.”
-
News3 days agoSajith: Ashoka Chakra replaces Dharmachakra in Buddhism textbook
-
Business3 days agoDialog and UnionPay International Join Forces to Elevate Sri Lanka’s Digital Payment Landscape
-
Features3 days agoThe Paradox of Trump Power: Contested Authoritarian at Home, Uncontested Bully Abroad
-
Features3 days agoSubject:Whatever happened to (my) three million dollars?
-
News3 days agoLevel I landslide early warnings issued to the Districts of Badulla, Kandy, Matale and Nuwara-Eliya extended
-
News3 days agoNational Communication Programme for Child Health Promotion (SBCC) has been launched. – PM
-
News3 days ago65 withdrawn cases re-filed by Govt, PM tells Parliament
-
Opinion5 days agoThe minstrel monk and Rafiki, the old mandrill in The Lion King – II
