Midweek Review
The animating presence of folk literature
By Prof. Wimal Dissanayake
The dialogue between folk literature and classical literature, in many regions of the world, is as complex as it is fascinating. I am a great admirer of the post-modern writings of the distinguished Italian writer Italo Calvino. I have read all his books, creative and critical, translated into English with great interest. I have written critical essays on his works introducing them to the Sinhala reader. The other day as I was re-reading with mounting interest his book Italian Folktales, I was reminded of the urgency of the intersections between folk and elite literatures.
The Italian Folktales is a collection of 200 folk tales prevalent in various regions of Italy. Italo Calvino has rendered them into standard Italian, making adjustments and alterations when and where necessary. It is indeed a re-telling of these stories by Calvino. This book was first published in Italian in 1956 and translated into English in 1962. Since them there have been other English translations of it. In composing this volume, Italo Calvino was influenced by the thinking of the Russian folklorist Vladimir Propp. Clearly, this is a book intended for the general reader in a way that Propp’s Morphology of the Folktale is not.
The folktales gathered in this volume are full of kings, peasants, ogres, as well as strange animals and plants as indeed in most folktales the world over. Many discerning critics have claimed that Italo Calvino did for Italian folktales what Brothers Grimm did for German folktales. This collection of stories was extremely well received outside of Italy as well. The New York Times Book Review said, ‘This collection stands with the finest folktale collections in the world.’ The Times called it ‘a magic book and a classic to boot.’
The impulse of Italian peasants for collective self-representation and the subtle literary sensibility of Italo Calvino meet in these pages with remarkable results infusing the stories with a vibrant and seductive glow. Indeed, what Brothers Grimm did for German folktales, Calvino did for Italian folk tales. These stories are activated by various dualisms such as reality and fantasy, conventionality and originality, simple and complex, local and universal which discerning literary critics with a deconstructive bent of mind would find extremely attractive and will persuade them to harness their analytical impulses in diverse ways seeking to annul the facile dualisms.
The Colombian Nobel laureate Garcia Marquez is an equally talented writer; but he is very different from Calvino as a literary artist. However, he too was deeply attracted to folk art and folk literature. He has often observed that his narrative impulse and skills were stimulated and nurtured by the folktales that his grandmother told him. He was also profoundly stirred by the Colombian folk music form vallenato. It is a popular folk music genre that is highly lyrical and expressive of a vigorous folk imagination. Garcia Marquez was not only enticed by this musical genre, but he also promoted vallenato concerts. His literary sensibility was memorably penetrated by this musical genre. He once remarked that, ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude, his magnum opus, was a 250-page vallenato. As with Calvino, Garcia Marquez too displayed a great partiality for folk art and literature and the distinctive imagination of folk artists.
When discussing the power of folk art and folk literature, another distinguished writer that springs into mind is the Spanish poet and playwright Federico Garcia Lorca. Tragically, this highly talented writer was assassinated at a relatively young age. His work can best be understood as representing the intersection of folk literature and modern literary sensibility. His work the Gypsy Ballads exemplifies this aspect admirably. He deployed the traditional ballad meter with eight-syllable lines and traditional symbols with remarkable ingenuity. He made use of the self-protective symbolism of Spanish folk poetry to escape the nervous intimacies of personal anguish. Lorca was interested in uncovering the hidden contours of Andalusian imagination. A passage of poetry like the following taken from his Ballad of the Moon illustrates this facet of his work convincingly.
How the night heron sings
How it sings in the trees
Moon crosses the sky
With a boy by the hand
At the forge the gypsies
Cry and then scream
The wind watches
The wind watches the moon
Here Garcia Lorca deploys traditional symbols such as night, moon, sky and wind with new and at times Freudian valences. The ballads appear to be simple, but they conceal a sophisticated art.
The visionary Irish poet and playwright and Nobel laureate W.B.Yeats is another brilliant writer whose imagination was profoundly stimulated by folk art and literature. From the beginning he was attracted to folklore, myths, legends, ballads and so on. He once remarked that legends are the mothers of nations. He also said that, ‘all folk literature, and all literature that keeps the folk tradition, delights in unbounded and immortal things.’ Yeats was not, to be sure, enforcing a simple duality between folk literature and elitist literature; he was referencing a much more complex interaction.
Earlier, I referred to the collection of Italian folk tales by Italo Calvino. Similarly, Yeats published in 1888 a collection of folk tales and poems titled Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry. It consists of 65 tales and poems that lead us to the vibrancy of the Irish folk imagination. They introduce us to a fascinating world peopled by kings, witches, ghosts, priests, saints, fairies, demons and peasants. Italo Calvino was interested in uncovering the hidden powers of the Italian folk imagination. Similarly, W.B. Yeats was interested in demonstrating the hidden powers of Irish sensibility. It was his conviction that ‘the very voice of the people, the very pulse of the people’ could be happily recovered through folk literature. Yeats was closely associated the famous Irish Literary Revival and his interest in folk literature constitutes one aspect of it. A well-known literary critic once observed that, ‘Yeats turned to folk sources to give his work the grain of ordinary humanity and the direct appeal of ballads and other traditional forms.’
Coming closer to home, the distinguished Nobel Prize winning writer Rabindranath Tagore also displayed a remarkable interest in folk art, music and literature. Yeats, of course, played a significant role in gaining a reputation for Tagore in the West. His poetry manifests a memorable amalgamation of folk, classical and Western influences. The spatial and temporal structures in his poetic compositions can be usefully understood in terms of folk art and literature. The foundational alphabet of his poems’ codes are traceable to folk roots. He was deeply sensitive to the interesting ways in which the folk imagination left its imprint in the vicissitudes of language. His poetic and lyric texts are marked by a pulse of folk-musicality.
Tagore was undoubtedly one of the greatest Indian writers of the modern age. His myriad talents moved in diverse directions. He earned a wide reputation as a poet, lyricist, novelist, playwright, short story writer, painter, musician, cultural critic and educationist. He was the author of some 60 collections of poetry and a great body of prose writings. He was a gifted musician who composed over ten thousand songs. As a painter, his work was exhibited in New York, Paris, Moscow, Berlin and Birmingham. In all these manifold endeavors one can identify the animating presence of folk art and literature. The rhetorical frameworks guiding his literary creations make audible a dialogue between the folk and elite traditions.
Among the Sri Lankan writers who have assiduously sought out the nurturing presence of folk literature, Gunadasa Amarasekera merits close study. His book of poetry, Amal Biso constitutes a landmark in the evolution of modern Sinhala poetry. In it, he has drawn heavily on the vitality of Sinhala folk poetry. The challenging equation of sense and sound, content and form, logic and syntax, the polyphonic achievements, the musically-patterned complex articulations that one discerns in this poetry book display a deep allegiance to the folk tradition. He combined the power and possibilities of folk poetry with an evolving cotemporary sensibility to produce poetry of a high order.
Let us, for example, consider a poem like Mal Yahanavata Vadinna, which I consider to be one of the finest Sinhala poems of the twentieth century. It recaptures the struggle between carnal love and romantic love drawing on all the available resources of folk poetry – diction, spatial and temporal structures, registers of discourse and rhetorical frameworks. It reconfigures a world fissured by complexity. He annuls easy disjunctions between binarisms of purity and impurity physicality and ideality. As Calvino, Garcia Marquez, Yeats, Garcia Lorca and Tagore had amply demonstrated, to draw on folk literature is not to romanticize it but to make it a vital contemporary presence, poignantly relevant to modern times. Gunadasa Amarasekera, too, has drawn attention to this important fact. It is interesting to observe the ways in which he allows the poem to rediscover the sense of its own textuality. Broadly speaking, a number of other outstanding Sinhala writers have been sensitive to this conjunction of folk and elite literature. In my book Enabling Traditions: Four Sinhala Cultural Intellectuals’ I have drawn attention to this point.
So far, I have discussed how highly gifted and consequential writers from different regions of the world have drawn on the vigor of folk literature to enhance the power and reach of their own work. Another facet of the influence of folk poetry is the diverse ways in which the discourse of the folk tradition has inflected the main tradition of literature. If we take the example of the Sinhala poetic tradition, we can observe how from the beginning the folk tradition has played a pivotal role in shaping the visage of the main tradition. For example, among the Sigiri poems, some of the earliest poetic compositions we have, we see representations and exemplifications of the classical as well as folk traditions.
Most literary historians are inclined to regard the folk tradition and the elite tradition as running along parallel tracks. At a superficial level, one can appreciate the legitimacy of such as approach. However, when we pause to inquire into this topic more deeply we would realize that throughout history there has been a constant and mutually fructifying interaction between the two traditions. Discerning literary critics like Martin Wickremasinghe and Gunadasa Amarasekera have established this fact. If we consider a highly esteemed and popular poem like the Guttila Kavya we would realize how the two traditions fruitfully meet in its pages. Gunadasa Amarasekera in his Sinhala Kavya Sampradaya has drawn attention to this fact. Srinath Ganewatte and I, in our book on Sinhala meter titled Viritha ha Arutha have demonstrated how folk literature has played a determinative role in the growth of Sinhala meters.
As we seek to explore in depth the power and resourcefulness of the folk tradition we need to bear in mind its diverse heuristic possibilities and the need to interpret it from fresh angles.
For example, some products of folk poets lend themselves to a form of subaltern approach. What I seek to highlight by this is the way folk poets foreground their agency, give voice to their predicaments and offer, through their texts, a kind of counter-tradition. Sinhala folk poets have demonstrated the fact that subalterns indeed can speak through their poems of deprivation and loss. This is an attempt to unsettle conventional structures of feeling and upend taken for granted viewpoints. This is indeed a subject area that invites further analysis. It requires elaborate theoretical equipage.
When we begin to unpack the creative and critical possibilities of the folk tradition, we should pay attention to the notion of the performative. Folk poems are nothing if not performative. It is not only in the case of oral poetry but also on the later written poetry, the idea of performance is supreme. Performativity should not be confined to folk poetry alone. All poetry, whether ancient or modern, folk or elite is performative. We do not seem to pay adequate attention to this important fact. By regarding modern poems as a performative events we can open new doors to their many-layered meanings and complex structures.
It has become increasingly clear that the discourse of tradition has to be located within the proper historical and cultural contexts and to focus clear-sightedly on the material forces that contribute to the shaping of tradition. In recent times, critics, like Sena Thoradeniya, have sought to underline this fact. The interplay between the folk and elite literature enables us to map more productively the dynamics of literary tradition. An exploration into the nature and significance of folk literature would permit us to engage in a more focused analysis of the constructedness of literary tradition.
Literary traditions are the outcome of the interaction between language power and nationality. We normally tend to discuss the evolution of literary traditions in linear terms. But it is becoming increasingly clear that we need to adopt a more complex vision which does justice to periods of intense activity and those marked by relative dormancy. Instead of linearity we need to foreground complex re-configurations. Traditions are not innocent of politics in the broader sense of the term. Questions of exclusivity and repressiveness and resistance loom large. We need to reimagine literary traditions as sites of conflict and challenging negotiations where an incessant struggle for meaning and truth takes place. A serious engagement with folk literature as instances of collective self-representations enable us to appreciate the importance of this move. We have been led to believe that literary traditions are transparent and free from the exercising of hidden power. The rhetorical strategies that go to form the discourse of literary traditions, along with the promoted hierarchical truths, have to be patiently mapped.
When we investigate into topics such as literary traditions, literary history and folk literatures our inescapable reference point and the guiding framework become the nation. Our desire to adopt a national framework in the evaluation of tradition is understandable. However, owing to the increasing impact of globalization the inevitability of the concept of nationhood is being challenged. We are asked to come up with a broader frames of intelligibility. The supra-national perspective has several implications. Let us consider a poem like Mal Yahanavata Vadinna by Amarasekera that I alluded to earlier. It is securely located in the folk tradition thematically, structurally and rhetorically. However, readers familiar with the respective writings and visions of Sigmund Freud and D.H. Lawrence would almost certainly find additional layers of meaning in the poem. The need to locate the poem in a larger horizon of meaning becomes apparent. What this highlights is that we need to be aware of both the metaphors of globalism and metonymies of localism. This awareness has a way of mitigating the anxieties of recognition.
On the basis of the preceding discussion, it can plausibly be argued that folk-literature can become a useful point of departure for the deconstruction of literary tradition and literary theory. Traditions are sites of the confluence of language, power and knowledge. This entails choices and preferences which result in exclusions and marginalizations. We have to think about traditions and literary history in new ways in the light of newer theoretical developments in the humanities and the social sciences.
The focus on literary traditions should pave the way to newer explorations of literary history. Literary history is not linear and transparent as is commonly believed, but circulatory and multi-layered. Our focus should be on reconfigurations and parallel assemblages obeying the dictates of Bakhtinian chronotopes (space-time formations). Such an approach will facilitate a more comprehensive view of literary history. An inquiry into folk-literature will expedite this hermeneutic process.
This short article consists of some reflections triggered by my re-reading of Calvino’s Italian Folktales. This re-reading brought to mind the works of Garcia Marquez, Garcia Lorca, Yeats, Tagore and Gunadasa Amarasekera, all of whom in their diverse ways, drew upon the power of folk literary forms. This discussion, I am persuaded, points to the importance of deconstructing literary traditions and literary history and demonstrating their constructed nature and the power plays involved. This article has, inevitably, taken the form of scattered reflections rather than a tightly constructed argument. Given the vast scope of the subject under consideration, and the limited space available, this is only to be expected.
Midweek Review
Thileepan’s fast unto death: An authentic narrative that many missed
Tamil political parties and politicians are seeking political advantage over the death of Thileepan. Last year, organisers of Thileepan commemoration prevented Fisheries, Aquatic and Ocean Resources Minister Ramalingham Chandrasekaran from entering the Thileepan memorial in Nallur. In spite of being a Minister, Chandrasekaran couldn’t enter the premises. The NPP National List lawmaker made the abortive bid on 17 Sept., 2025, the third day of the 12-day commemoration.
Would he risk being snubbed for a second consecutive year? At the time the Thilipeen commemoration started, on 15 Sept., Chandrasekeran had been away in China and he returned to the country over the weekend.
By Shamindra Ferdinando
Commemorative events held at the newly installed bronze statue of the late Rasiah Parthipan, alias ‘Lt. Colonel’ Thileepan at Nallur, Jaffna, caused controversy. A section of the Opposition accused the NPP government of encouraging separatist movement by turning a blind eye to the growing hero worship of an LTTEer.
The unveiling of the statue took place on 15 Sept., the day the Tiger launched his fast unto death, in 1987, to become a hero in the eyes of his equally misled community. At the time of his death, at the Nallur Hindu Temple, on 26 Sept.,1987, Thileepan was 23-years-old.
The controversial commemoration will continue till 26 September, 2026. The SLPP led the attack against the backdrop of accusations that the former ruling party promoted the LTTE ideology, by accommodating maverick Jaffna District Independent lawmaker Dr. Ramanathan Archchuna, a truly qualified medical doctor on its political platform. Dr. Archchuna also never shies away from calling a spade a spade, irrespective of any consequences.
Almost four decades after his death, controversy still surrounds the circumstances leading to the former Jaffna Hindu College student, and Jaffna University undergraduate, launching the fast unto death.
Jaffna Monitor, in a story headlined ‘Jaffna Begins 39th Commemoration of Thileepan’s Fast,’ posted this month, dealt with Thileepan’s fast. Let me reproduce the relevant section: “His fast followed the Indo-Lanka Accord of July 1987, under which Indian troops were deployed to the north as a peacekeeping force. On Sept. 13, 1987, the LTTE handed the Indian High Commission a letter setting out five demands: the release of Tamils held under the Prevention of Terrorism Act and emergency regulations; an end to Sinhalese settlement in Tamil areas carried out in the name of rehabilitation; a halt to all such rehabilitation work until an interim administrative council is established; an end to the construction of police stations in the Northern and Eastern Provinces; and the disarming of government-armed home guards, together with the withdrawal of the army and police from schools. The demands were addressed to New Delhi on the reasoning that India alone could compel Colombo to act. No reply came.” https://www.jaffnamonitor.com/featured/jaffna-begins-39th-commemoration-of-thileepans-fast/
But, ex-LTTE combatant Niromi de Soyza (not her real name) in her internationally acclaimed ‘Tamil Tigress’ disclosed what transpired at a meeting (p 142) chaired by Thileepan himself at a place called Freedom Birds’ head office where he declared the LTTE’s determination to force the Indian Army to leave Sri Lanka. Declaring that those who served the group’s political wing didn’t get an opportunity to show their commitment to the organisation, he had vowed to go ahead with fast unto deaths, regardless of the consequences. Soyza, who had been assigned to the group responsible for crowd control at the fast unto death site, quoted Thileepan as having said at the previously mentioned meeting: “This is my chance. I’m optimistic it will achieve something, whether I live or die. We must force the Indians out of our land.”
The author of “Tamil Tigress’ who had been among those who received her first assault rifle and cyanide capsule from Thileepan questioned the (Chapter 9: There’s still time to change your mind) as to why Velupillai Prabhakaran chose physically fragile Thileepan to undertake the fast unto death.
According to Soyza’s narrative, the fast unto death had been directed at the Indian Army. Referring to the Nallur hunger strike 39 years ago, Soyza said that lyrics of all songs played therein expressed the same sentiments. In her own words, Thilpeepan’s dying wish was to see the foreign army, the IPKF (Indian Peace Keeping Force) defeated.
Sri Lanka never really examined at least key events that shaped the war in the North-East. Successive governments lacked political will to meticulously scrutinise events thereby setting the record straight. Over the years various interested parties have been successful in promoting false narratives, pertaining to key events. Thileepan’s fast unto death is a case in point.
A memorial for IPKF

IPKF memorial
Thileepan’s fast unto death, or slow suicide, created the background for the LTTE-IPKF war. The war erupted just two weeks after Thileepan’s death. Those propagating false narratives have conveniently forgotten that the crux of the matter is the fact that the LTTE didn’t hand over its weapons as envisaged in the Peace Accord signed on 29 July 1987. All Tamil terrorist groups were to be disarmed within 72 hours after the signing of the accord. India failed in one of its primary responsibilities.
The much publicised weapons handover that took place in Jaffna was a farce. Perhaps, the top IPKF command knew of the LTTE strategy but chose to turn a blind eye. The consequences were devastating. The memorial put up by Sri Lanka, in 2008, for the IPKF, at Battaramulla, is a stark reminder of the war caused by the LTTE. Had it accepted the Indo-Lanka Peace Accord, as previously agreed, there wouldn’t have been the fast unto death undertaken by Thileepan and a bronze statue or a memorial for the IPKF.
The LTTE had been hell-bent on eradicating other Indian-sponsored former Tamil terrorist groups, as well as taking on the Indian Army. Prabhakaran had been so over confident of his group’s military prowess, he created an extremely hostile environment conducive for war. Having deceived the governments of India and Sri Lanka regarding the surrendering of armaments in line with the peace accord, Prabhakaran, apparently engineered Thileepan’s slow suicide. ‘Tamil Tigress’ author who personally knew Prabhakaran and Thileepan emphasised that point quite clearly. The bottom line is that Thileepan’s demise had been a tool in Prabhakaran’s hands who brazenly manipulated the Jaffna community. Prabhakaran used Thileepan’s needless agonising death to maximise the overall LTTE strategy. The LTTE wanted an excuse to resume hostilities. Obviously, he was quite successful in creating an environment conducive for war. Don’t forget that Thileepan launched his fast unto death six weeks after the deployment of the Indian Army in Northern and Eastern Sri Lanka.
The surrender of arms, arranged at Suthumalai sportsground on 4 August, 1987, with the presence of the media, was meant to underscore the end of the conflict. But the ‘Tamil Tigress’ author, who had been present at the arms surrender, revealed in her memoirs how Prabhakaran expressed suspicion of the peace accord. According to her, on the night of 4 August, 1987, she was among those addressed by Prabhakaran, his first interaction with LTTE cadres following his Suthumalai sham weapons surrender to fool the fools. Soyza quoted Prabhakaran as having told them: “All our good ammunition was stashed prior to the surrender. We’ll continue to hand over the rest.” She also quoted Prabhakaran as having declared: “War will resume in a month or two.”
Close on the heels of a group of LTTE cadres taking their lives after being apprehended by the Navy in the first week of Oct., 1987, the author of ‘Tamil Tigress’ quoted Prabhakaran as having alleged India engineered the peace process as a plot to gradually eliminate them. The LTTE leader had obviously forgotten if not for India they wouldn’t have achieved powerful military status. India not only armed the Tamil terrorists, but also granted them freedom to conduct operations across the Palk Strait. The Indian Navy looked the other way when terrorists, wounded in combat with the Sri Lankan military, were moved across the short passage to receive treatment in Tamil Nadu hospitals.
The suicide of LTTE cadres, including the then Jaffna commander ‘Lt. Col.’ Kumarappa, and Trincomalee commander ‘Lt. Col’ Pulendran, boosted Prabhakaran’s strategy. Those propagating false narratives tend to forget that Prabhakaran smuggled in cyanide capsules into Palaly air base where the 17 personnel were held. In a way, the slow death of Thileepan, and mass suicide of LTTE cadres, all were engineered by Prabhakaran himself. Those demanding accountability on the part of Sri Lanka never bothered to examine Prabhakaran’s murderous plots.
Sri Lanka’s dilemma

Sri Lanka memorial
Indian Defence Minister Rajnath Singh, during his recent visit here, paid a floral tribute to the IPKF memorial, at Pelawatte, Battaramulla. It would be pertinent to mention that the construction of the memorial was completed in 2008. The late General Lionel Balagalle, in his capacity as the Commander of the Army and Chief of Defence Staff, proposed a memorial for IPKF, following a visit to New Delhi in Dec., 2003. What made Balagalle propose a memorial for the IPKF, knowing very well India destabilised Sri Lanka and the introduction of the foreign Army by way of arm twisting the then government, headed by JRJ, was not appreciated, under any circumstances. He, like many of us, however realised we had to make peace with our giant overbearing neighbour, irrespective of whether we liked it or not, in order to co-exist.
The destabilisation of a friendly country had been in line with their overall strategy to deploy its Army to ensure the installation of an administration loyal to New Delhi. India went to the extent of forming a force called Tamil National Army (TNA) during the period leading to the withdrawal of the IPKF in March 1990. Having joined The Island editorial as a novice, in June 1987, the writer had the opportunity to cover the last Indian troop carrying vessel leaving Trincomalee port on the afternoon of 24 March, 1990 (The IPKF is off, The Sunday Island, 25 March, 1990). India violated Sri Lanka airspace on 4 June to air drop 25 tonnes of food and medicine over Jaffna peninsula without anyone’s permission here, which came to be sarcastically termed the ‘parippu drop’, just three days after I joined The Island.
While honouring the IPK with a memorial in which 1069 names of its officers and men killed in the Lankan misadventure inscribed, since the end of the war, in May 2009, Sri Lanka played politics with the defeated LTTE. The Thileepan’s statue is a case in point. The installation of a new bronze statue of Thileepan, who died in a fast unto death against India demanding the withdrawal of the IPKF, soon after the Indian Defence Minister paid floral tribute to the IPKF memorial, highlighted Sri Lanka’s continuing dilemma.
The ruling NPP under any circumstances cannot risk antagonising the Tamil electorate, or the Tamils living overseas, by clamping down on events, such as the Thileepan commemoration. Having won all electoral districts in the predominantly Tamil speaking Northern and Eastern Provinces at the presidential and parliamentary polls, in 2024, and done well at the Local Government polls of May 2025, in the same regions, the NPP may have bent backwards to avoid confronting organisers of such events.
The intervention made by police at Nallur, on 18 Sept., 2026 .should be considered as a measure to counter accusations that the government promoted separatist sentiments. Police disrupted the public address system claiming that the organisers didn’t obtain permission to use speakers. But, the commemorations continued not only in Nallur but in Batticaloa as well.
The undeniable truth is all political parties, represented in Parliament, played ball with the LTTE, during the conflict and after, hence the song and dance will continue. The reality is Prabhakaran staged Thileepan’s slow death and engineered mass suicide at the Palaly air base in Sept. and Oct. 1987 to plunge the country back into war. Therefore, the country should be wary of those propagating and promoting false narratives in support of their despicable political agendas. The issue is whether Thileepan willingly sacrificed his life to help Prabhakaran implement his strategy or was used as a tool. If Soyza’s narrative is accurate Thileepan had been chosen from among a large group of volunteers who accepted the challenge. There is no doubt fast unto death must have been Prabhakaran’s brainchild as much as the Palaly mass suicide was. What made Prabhakaran believe that he could overwhelm the Indian Army, at that time numbering over 1.1 mn and was considered the fourth largest with the Soviet Union, China and the US maintaining far bigger land forces?
During the Indian Army deployment that began in July/August, 1987, the strength was around 10,000 officers and men. Their mission was to ensure implementation of the ceasefire and disarming of terrorist groups. But, when Prabhakaran executed a group of Sri Lankan soldiers in their custody following the mass suicide at Palaly airbase on Oct. 5, 1987, and fighting erupted a week later, India had no option but to bring in additional forces. At the peak of their deployment here the total strength including the Navy and Air Force units, reached 100,000.
Thileepan insulted
It is a paradox that a section of the Tamil community commemorated Thileepan after having voted for warwinning Army Commander General (retd.) Sarath Fonseka at the 2010 presidential election. In spite of Fonseka suffering a humiliating defeat, he won all predominantly Tamil speaking districts. Tamils, including recipients of foreign citizenship, annually commemorate various LTTE events. ‘Black Tiger Day’ on 5 July, the day Vallipuram Vasanthan, known by the nom de guerre Captain Miller, mounted a suicide attack on troops of ‘Operation Liberation,’ based at the Nelliady Central College, is one such event. That was the time between the infamous Indian airdrop and the signing of the so-called Indo-Lanka peace accord that was done under the threat of direct Indian military intervention.
What made the community that still considered Thileepan as a hero to vote for Fonseka who mercilessly brought the war to an end? What made lawmaker Archchuna, who still venerated Prabhakaran, to join Mahinda Rajapaksa on the SLPP platform? Thileepan would have turned in his grave if he saw how the community behaved. Nothing could have offended him or Prabhakaran than the Illankai Thamil Arasu Kadchi (ITAK)-led Tamil National Alliance (TNA) joining hands with the UNP and the JVP to field Fonseka as the common candidate at the 2010 presidential election.
The TNA consisted of former Indian funded terrorist groups TELO, PLOTE and EPRLF, in addition to the ITAK, had no qualms in promoting Fonseka’s candidature after having accused his Army of gross human rights violations. The Tamil electorate had no qualms in choosing Fonseka over Mahinda Rajapaksa, who sought political consensus with the LTTE as a last bid to end bloodshed before unleashing the armed forces on an all-out assault, within our limited means, to defeat uncompromising Tiger terrorists.
Sri Lanka pathetically failed to set the record straight. The worst offender is President Rajapaksa himself. His administration could have done much more to explain the developments leading to all-out war. Instead, the first post-war Rajapaksa government squandered that opportunity. Its pathetic failure helped those who couldn’t stomach the LTTE’s defeat to propagate war crimes accusations with the help of the conniving West, which, unfortunately, included the United Nations organs like the UNHRC, controlled by them.
While the top Sri Lankan military and political leaderships were held accountable for unsubstantiated war crimes allegations, with the US, the UK and Canada declaring targeted sanctions against former Presidents Mahinda Rajapaksa and Gotabaya Rajapaksa as well as Admiral of the Fleet Wasantha Karannagoda, General Shavendra Silva et al. Australia found fault with strategist Maj. Gen. Chagie Gallage for taking command, post-war command, of 59 Division that played a significant role in eradicating the LTTE. Gallage was denied a visa during the Yahapalana administration. When this writer raised the relentless Western attacks on wartime Sri Lankan leadership at a media briefing called by the Foreign Ministry in Sept., 2022, the then Foreign Minister Ali Sabry, PC, said that entire divisions deployed on the northern front had been blacklisted.
While Indian dignitaries paying their respects at the IPKF memorial seemed to have received public acceptance, last year the NPP government created unprecedented controversy ahead of the May 2025 commemoration when the Defence Ministry announced President Anura Kumara Dissanayake wouldn’t attend the 16th ‘War Heroes’ commemoration ceremony. The declaration triggered a massive political backlash. President Dissanayake was compelled to reverse his decision. The JVP and NPP leader, who also holds the Defence portfolio and the post of Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces, attended the event. This year there was no controversy. Whatever the JVP/NPP political stand, the President cannot, under any circumstances, shun the annual war heroes’ commemoration.
The armed forces eradicated JVP terrorism twice in 1971 and 1986/87 to 1990. They defeated the conventional military and terrorist challenge posed by the LTTE. Whatever the ungrateful opportunists and Western-funded NGO hacks write, the armed forces triumph over the LTTE is the single most important post-independence achievement. The eradication of the JVP challenge that almost overwhelmed the UNP government in the late 80s, too, is equally important and had the armed forces failed at the time, the country could have ended up in far worse chaos. The bottom line is that the eradication of the LTTE couldn’t have been achieved if the UNP didn’t triumph over the second JVP-inspired terror campaign. That is the undeniable truth. It would be unfair by the JVP if we didn’t mention that the UNP too drove the JVP to take up arms in the 80s by proscribing the party over the 1983 anti-Tamil violence, though it was not responsible for the breakdown of law and order, countrywide, when UNP goons went on the rampage against innocent Tamils, especially in Colombo. The postponement of scheduled parliamentary elections by six years to 1989, after holding a sham referendum by the JRJ government, too, contributed to the war in the North, and terrorism in the South.
Midweek Review
Illusion of recovery: Three fault lines threatening Sri Lanka’s future
By Chandre Dharmawardana
chandre.dharma@yahoo.ca)
(Continued from 22 Sept. 2026)
Other well-recognised fault lines
In discussing Sri Lanka’s political trajectory since 1948, many writers relish a narrative where its current impasse and its ethnic conflict are traced back to the “curse of partisan politics” (e.g., This curse of partisan politics in Sri Lanka, Island 2026/09/4, by Brig. Ranjan de Silva [10]). A more sophisticated narrative is based on the negative impact of Sinhala Only nationalist policies introduced by SWRD Bandaranaike after defeating the pro-business UNP in 1956. In fact, many social scientists (e.g., H. L. Seneviratne [11]) have analysed Sri Lanka’s post-Independence trajectory in dystopian terms within this paradigm equated to the negative impact of a majoritarian “Sinhala-Buddhist-dominance” politics.
H. L. Seneviratne explicitly positions the 1956 election of S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike and the subsequent “Sinhala Only” Act as the foundational missteps that set Sri Lanka on a tragic path. He argues that this political turn institutionalised majoritarian chauvinism to secure electoral victories. Seneviratne analyses the post-1956 era in stark, structural terms. He argues that by allowing Buddhist monks (the Sangha) to morph from spiritual renunciates into a highly politicised, corporate pressure group, the state birthed a toxic political culture. In his evaluation, this “New Buddhism” fostered ethnic polarisation, institutionalised corruption, and ultimately laid the structural groundwork for the devastating Sri Lankan Civil War.
These authors have claimed that the increasingly jingoistic policies of many politicians of the majority community, as well as the ultra-nationalist politics of the Ilankai Thamil Arasu Kadchi (ITAK) established in 1949 dictated an irrevocable path to armed conflict that sapped Sri Lanka for over three decades. Majoritarian “Sinhala-Buddhist domination” is frequently cited by Tamil opinion writers as a major cause hindering Sri Lanka. In contrast, Sinhalese opinion writers point to the “excessive” set of demands of the 12% Tamil minority that began with their rejection of the Donoughmore constitution and the Eelamist demands for an exclusive Tamil homeland that grew out of the political platform of the ITAK.
The 1972 republican constitution of the SLFP-LSSP government became a pivotal juncture when the Tamil youth, inflamed by the violent propaganda, e.g., the poetry of Kasi Anathan, firmly embraced militant separatism. This was finally ratified by the Vaddukkodai resolution of 1976 crafted by the Tamil United liberation Front (TULF). Kasi Anandan had called for physical elimination of “thurogi” (traitors) who sought federalism or any form of power sharing with the majority. By then, several of the moderate Tamil leaders who had been named by Kasi Anandan had been assassinated. The TULF leaders were themselves assassinated and Tamil politics was hijacked by violent youth groups. The LTTE emerged out of the blood bath within the Tamil community to confront the Sri Lankan state militarily until the LTTE’s demise in 2009.
Historians, like K. M. de Silva, have characterised the Tamils as a minority who behave like a majority, while the Sinhalese are a majority who have behaved like a minority always fearful that the Tamil minority and Tamil-Nadu Tamils would act together and prevail against them.
However, both inter-Ethnic violence as well as intra-ethnic violence are fueled by the availability of discontented youth populations. Currently, Sri Lanka’s youth population has probably fallen below threshold for driving social upheavals, as Sri Lanka is now in demographic contraction. However, given the widening rich-poor gap, the residual youth populations still have the potential to spawn urban terrorist cells that can have an impact far beyond their numerical strengths.
Malaysia provides a strong counterexample to the type of social analysis presented by H. L. Seneviratne and others who argue that demotion of English and majoritarian jingoist politics were the key factors that have weighed in on Sri Lanka’s post-independence performance.
Malaysia emerged from British Malaya and by 1970 adopted Malay as the only official language. It demoted English completely, and made no room for the use of Chinese, the language of the 30% minority. Furthermore, Malaysia openly and unabashedly adopted a policy of discriminating in favour of Malay ethnics (60% of the population) who were named “Bhumiputra” (sons of the soil) with special rights and privileges in an Islamic hegemonic society. Unlike in Sri Lanka (where the leaders at least affirmed equality for all, or the wish to create just societies), Malaysia adopted an unapologetically chauvinist political programme.
In strong contrast to the political programme launched by elite leaders of the Tamils in Sri Lanka, the Chinese minority, basing on its previous experience of violence faced by them, followed a non-violent approach, ostensibly cooperating with the Malays, but concentrating on achieving hegemony in the mercantile and professional sectors.
Another factor that worked in favour of Malaysia was the absence of a significant Marxist political movement that could have deterred foreign investment or spawned nationalisation of successful private assets. Massive tax breaks and guarantees of labour stability enabled Malaysia to attract industrial giants such as Mitsubishi, Intel, HP, Texas Instruments etc., into its free-trade zones in the 1970s. At that time Sri Lanka was busy nationalising its tea plantations, driving out experienced managers to other countries such as South Africa and looking at foreign investors with a Marxist lens. Meanwhile, in Malaysia, majority and minority ethnic groups worked together in spite of political and linguistic discrimination, and today the average income of a Malaysian citizen is approximately five times that of a citizen of Sri Lanka.
A fragile facade
The Central Bank’s upbeat figures and the upgrade to middle-income status provide a vital psychological boost, but they reflect a temporary stabilisation rather than permanent structural health. A country cannot genuinely move into “safe waters” when its corporate elite is exporting capital, its professional class is fleeing overseas, and its remaining domestic population is rapidly aging.
Without aggressive structural reforms aimed at curbing trade mis-invoicing, incentivising talent retention, and preparing the economy for an aging workforce, the current economic growth will remain a fragile facade. If these three dystopian factors are left unaddressed, they will inevitably intersect, trigger a collapse in productivity, and rapidly destabilise Sri Lanka’s hard-won recovery. The leaders of the country, as well as the populace, irrespective of their political hue, have not appreciated the overarching importance of the three fault lines that we have described. They are enjoying the theatre of political arrests, jingoist exchanges and conspiracy theories even while their very firmament is trembling. The two ethnic groups that have fought each other will find that their communities face extinction because their TFR has dropped way below the 2.1 children per female that is needed to sustain their populations.
References & citations
[1] Central Bank of Sri Lanka (CBSL). (2026). Macroeconomic Developments and Estimates for First/Second Quarters 2026. Colombo: CBSL; and Central Bank of Sri Lanka (CBSL). (2026). Special Probes Report on Telegraphic Transfers and Fictitious Capital Outflows. Colombo: Financial Intelligence Unit.
[2] Global Financial Integrity (GFI). (2024). Trade Misinvoicing and Illicit Financial Flows in Developing Nations: A Focus on South Asia. Washington, D.C.: GFI; Global Financial Integrity (GFI). (2026). Trade-Related Illicit Financial Flows in Developing Asia (2013–2022). Washington, D.C.: GFI.
[3] National Chamber of Exporters of Sri Lanka (NCE). (2025). Annual Review on Export Sector Diversification and Off-Shoring Capacity. Colombo: NCE.
[4] Sri Lanka Bureau of Foreign Employment (SLBFE). (2025). Statistical Handbook on Migration Trends and Professional Brain Drain. Colombo: SLBFE.
[5] Hasini Lecamwasam, “The emptying university: why are academics leaving? (Island, 15th September 2026)
[6] Prof. Amarasiri de Silva, Sri Lanka’s university crisis: Brain drain and union action demand urgent reform (Island, 14th September 2026)
[7] World Bank. (2025). Sri Lanka Development Update: Navigating the Demographic Transition and Economic Recovery. Washington, D.C.: World Bank.
[8] De Silva, R., The Demography of Transition in South Asia: Emerging Trends (Colombo University Press, Colombo, 2025).
[9] Haldane, J. B. S., Daedalus; Science and the Future (Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., London, 1924).
[10] Brig. Ranjan de Silva, This curse of partisan politics in Sri Lanka, Island 2026/09/4
[11] H. L. Seneviratne, The Work of Kings: The New Buddhism in Sri Lanka, University of Chicago Press (1999/2000).
Midweek Review
Ehipassiko :The virtues of ‘Seeing for Oneself’
by Sasanka Perera
(The writer is on X as @sasmester)
The ongoing controversy surrounding the internal disciplinary proceedings against Reverend Kekirawe Sudassana conducted by senior monks of the ecclesiastical order he belongs to–Sri Lanka Ramanna Nikaya–offers an opportunity to reflect upon dissent and discourse within Sri Lankan Buddhism. The inquiry is the result of a series of complaints made against Reverend Sudassana focused on his public discourses which have been widely shared in social media and other online portals.
As usual, this case too has polarised Buddhists in the public domain. Those in support of Reverend Sudassana see absolutely nothing wrong in what he has done and said. Similarly, those against him in the public domain, see nothing but wrong in all his public utterances and want him taken to task. Between these two extremes, the core meaning of the Buddha’s notion of ehipassiko, which literally means ‘come and see for yourself’, is completely lost.
I have followed some of the public statements and discourses of Reverend Sudassana for a while as part of my interest in popular religion. Much of what he has to say goes against long held beliefs and traditions in Sri Lankan Buddhism. I find his ideas shift between rationalism and noisy rhetoric, both not unusual in different manifestations of Sri Lankan Buddhism. For instance, the much-respected Anagarika Dharmapala was essentially a rationalist who wanted to focus on the dhamma and not on Buddhism’s rituals or even on gods. But this does not mean that Reverend Sudassana can be judged in the same way as Anagarika Dharmapala given the vast variation in historical epochs the two operated in and their different approaches to public discourse.
Reverend Sudassana has often critiqued what he sees as mythology and ritualism in Buddhism. For him, many long-held rituals and beliefs embedded in popular Sri Lankan Buddhist practices are irrational and therefore not acceptable. While to any rational thinking being, there is no contention here, one must concede that it is mythology and rituals that hold any core set of philosophical ideas such as the dhamma together as a religion. It is through these practices that religion as a matter of faith emerges from abstract ideas. This is common to any religion. It is through these practices that Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism or Islam become religion as opposed to other philosophical ideas such as Plato’s and Socrates’ discourses or more recent trends in post-modern thinking, which do not constitute religion.
So, when Reverend Sudassana critiques and dismisses something so central to religion as belief and ritual as irrational, he needs to offer an alternative that would hold religion’s core ideas together. That, in my view, cannot be done by philosophy, the dhamma in the abstract sense or rationality as it is commonly understood today.
But when Reverend Sudassana argues against the over-commercialised merit-making practices, such as elaborate and very expensive pujas and certain customs that divert lay people from the Buddha’s pragmatic, core philosophical teachings, then, we have to pay serious attention to what he has to say. It is this kind of merit-making that I wrote about in 1995 with the use of the concept ‘grandiose religiosity’ that I coined to refer to expensive rituals and offering of alms.
Reverend Sudassana also stepped into the social minefield when he questioned the ordination of children at a very young age, inviting society to reflect on whether a child is mature enough to make a lifelong commitment to monasticism. He is not the first one to ask this question. Earlier critics include Gananath Obeyesekere and many others. This is an extremely important area that deserves the serious attention of citizens. Related to the same issue, Reverend Sudassana has also openly spoken out against child abuse within monastic environments, a topic that has traditionally been treated with strict institutional silence even through this has gained more traction as a public topic recently, at least in social media
Reverend Sudassana, through online commentaries has frequently targeted contemporary preaching styles of many Buddhist monks, explicitly calling out senior and popular monks who in his opinion perform ‘entertainment-driven’ or emotionally manipulative sermons (such as weeping while preaching) rather than focusing on true dhamma. Given the advent of what we may call ‘tele-monk’s or ‘online monks’, Reverend Sudassana’s criticism cannot be faulted if the comparison is only with the traditional preaching style of Buddhist monks. However, if this is the point of departure, then, Reverend Sudassana’s often combative style of discourse can also be critiqued in the same way. The issue in public discourse should be based on what preachers actually say and to what extent they take listeners closer to the dhamma or not. But often, such a reflective examination of dhamma content does not take place.
In certain ways, Reverend Sudassana has attempted to introduce a more rational interpretation of the Buddha as a historical figure and subsequent Buddhist history. From a historiographical point of view, this makes sense. The problem is, there is a vast variation between history as a formal academic discourse and belief in the past in terms of both perceived history and the past lives of well-known people. In the latter, there is not much space for rational reflection. That is why it is part of faith and not historiography. However, by trying to do this and attempting to separate what he views as historical fact from ‘literary or cultural interpretation’, Reverend Sudassana has drawn fierce opposition from orthodox factions of institutional Buddhism as well as many ordinary people who view his arguments as an attack on sacred text and tradition. What does all this mean? It is in answering this question that we need to reflect on the ancient Pali term, ehipassiko –‘come and see for yourself.’ In discursive terms, it is thought to be an open invitation by the Buddha himself to explore what he has preached rather than a demand for blind faith. The idea represented by ehipassiko is one of the six core qualities of dhamma in so far as the Theravada practice is concerned. the other five qualities include, svākkhāto (well-expounded by the Buddha), sandiṭṭhiko (directly visible or apparent right now), akāliko (timeless conditions, the results of which will be apparent when one practices), opaneyyiko (leading onwards to be applied within oneself) and paccattaṃ veditabbo viññūhī (to be personally known and realised by the wise).
Of these, ehipassiko is the most open invitation for reflection, which in my opinion goes very well with the Kalama Sutra or the Buddha’s charter of free inquiry. If Reverend Sudassana was motivated by ehipassiko and Kalama Sutra in his public discourses, he may have come closer to Buddhist ideals when it comes to Buddhism’s sympathies with freedom of inquiry. But at the same time, he has also moved considerably away from common sense dictating what is possible and what is not possible within the context in which he operates. First, complete rationalisation of Buddhist practice within an idiom of post-Enlightenment sense of rationalism is both not possible and dangerous. This applies to all religions. If this is done, then, faith will have to become mere philosophical reflection, thereby undermining what religion over time everywhere has done for humanity.
Second, what is actually possible to critique within the structures he is operating from (including his nikaya affiliations) needs to be clearly understood. What I can say as a scholar based on my research and reflection, are things a monk cannot say beyond a point as long as he is a monk. This common sense needs to be clearly understood if one is interested in reforming institutionalised Buddhism. It is in this area that many of the formal complaints against Reverend Sudassana have been made in the ongoing inquiry. There are numerous seriously problematic areas in his commentaries. These include claiming that the idea of karma is a myth and that rebirth is false. These are such core beliefs in Buddhism. One cannot critique them without disrupting the overall structure of the faith. But one can remain an unbeliever by virtue of personal choice but not make such opinions matters of public discourse. He has also claimed that specific powers such as the ability to read others’ minds, attributed to the Buddha are fictional. Again, beyond matters of rationality and within a discourse of faith, these things cannot be questioned in Buddhism in the same way they also cannot be in any other structure of belief. Reverend Sudassana has also been accused of providing problematic interpretations to long held positions espoused in the sutras and for claiming that that the Mahayana abhidhamma is superior to the Theravada version and so on. While the latter may be open to interpretation, Reverend Sudassana so far has not established that his grasp of the dhamma is adequate to offer such critical reinterpretations.
Third, endless combativeness is counterproductive if the aim is reform. It is much better to pick one’s battles on a rational basis rather than having a noisy opinion on everything under the sun. For instance, if Reverend Sudassana has issues with some of the less rational aspects of Buddhism like the Jataka stories, rebirth, specific rituals and so on, the better option is to underemphasise them in his sermons and public statements and replace them with life experiences of contemporary or historical times so that people understand the specifics of the dhamma being explained.
As for his more violent detractors on social media, my suggestion is to let the logic of ehipassiko come into play the way it was intended. Verbal violence, threats or ill-will have no space in Buddhism or in any decent society. If Reverend Sudassana’s discourses have negatively impacted disciplinary positions of his nikaya, I hope, they will be resolved through the kind of inquiry that is ongoing and even more importantly through broader reflection. But the senior monks in Sri Lanka Ramanna Nikaya must also reflect on why a discursive disagreement has generated this much internal reflection and interest leading to a formal inquiry at a time when very serious and continuous disciplinary and ethical violations by many monks, which are also now part of the public discourse, have not received the same attention.
-
News7 days agoShanakiyan urges urgent action over reported death sentence for Lankan in Saudi Arabia
-
News6 days agoNamal Rajapaksa Buddhist gambit fails, bail denied
-
Features6 days agoWhy the spelling Sri Lankan names in English vary
-
Features6 days agoThree bands, a new identity: Sri Lankan wolf snake recognised as distinct species
-
Business6 days agoSLIIT holds largest-ever convocation
-
News6 days agoVehicle prices drop by up to Rs. 1 mn, says importers’ body
-
News6 days agoGovt monitors reported Saudi death sentence – Foreign Ministry
-
Business6 days agoAll-new Bolero MaXX Pik-Up unveiled in Lanka
