Midweek Review
Situating Panduka Karunanayake’s ‘Politics’ of Education
by Sasanka Perera
South Asian University New Delhi
Panduka Karunanayake, Ruptures in Sri Lanka’s Education: Genesis, Present Status and Reflections. Nugegoda: Sarasavi Publishers, 2021 Pages; 280; ISBN 789553117793. Price: LKR 600.00 (with soft cover).
(This essay was initially written as the ‘Foreword’ for, Panduka Karunanayake’s book, Ruptures in Sri Lanka’s Education: Genesis, Present Status and Reflections)
As an educationist, once based in Sri Lanka, I had already read many of Karunanayake’s essays that have now been collected in this volume in their previous incarnation in the national press. This is not merely because we used to be teachers in the same university, but because we were both interested in the same issues, challenges and anxieties Sri Lanka’s education system had generated. I was also intrigued then and am also now that Karunanayake had opted to wade a considerable distance out of his speciality in Medicine into the messy and often thankless domain of public debate with his ideas that focused more broadly on education as opposed to his medical speciality. This is unusual for people with his kind of training, particularly in the local academic belief system where the popular assumption is that doctors should look after the sick and social commentaries should be left for social scientists and journalists. Thankfully, as the trajectory of these essays would indicate, Karunanayake began to transgress this kind of regressive thinking, at least 15 years ago, when he self-consciously decided to make the public sphere a forum for his ideas. In this context, my attempt in this Foreword is to situate these essays in the broader politics to which Karunanayake has consistently asked us to enter, though many have not.
Twenty-three essays
The 23 essays in this collection, about half of which have not been previously published, is a clear cartography of Karunanayake’s thinking on education. But, more importantly, they also broadly sketch the landscape of Sri Lankan education with a focus on three main issues. These are the present status of the educational reforms initially implemented under the visionary leadership of C.W.W. Kannangara in the 1940s and after; the role private capital can play in Sri Lanka’s higher education sector; and the status and role of the university as an institution in Sri Lanka, not only as a space for advanced learning, but also as a place for reflection.
Kannangara is best known for the introduction of what is known in Sri Lanka as ‘free education’, a system that assured citizens an education from kindergarten to university at the expense of the state. An important vehicle in institutionalizing this system was the establishment of central schools (Madhya Maha Vidyala) in urban and semi-urban locations in different parts of the country as conduits through which the vastly rural populations in the country could be directed towards an advanced secondary education at school level, and prepare them for university and professional education. The issue today is not that ‘free’ education does not exist along with the institutional structures set up to achieve this. Instead, the issue is whether the broader ideas of citizenship that Kananangara visualized are being met? It seems to me that Panduka Karunanayake’s anxiety is whether the value of this system of education has diminished as a result of the country’s present-day educational authorities losing touch with the finer points in the ideals of Kannangara’s reforms even though all of them would have reaped the benefits of that system.
Kannangara thinking
Today’s schools in Sri Lanka – in my view – are not about building a sense of citizenship and public consciousness that goes beyond the basic utilitarian expectations of education such as literacy and basic disciplinary competencies. In this sense, such a system can be better described in the words of Ivan Illich than what was anticipated by Kannangara’s thinking. That is, in general, schools everywhere today are “designed on the assumption that there is a secret to everything in life; that the quality of life depends upon knowing that secret; that secrets can only be known in orderly successions; and that only teachers can properly reveal these secrets. An individual with a schooled mind conceives of the world as a pyramid of classified packages accessible only to those who carry the proper tags.” What this regimented and linear scheme of learning refers to is the basic requirement of discipline that young people are expected to follow that would allow them to become an integral and unobtrusive part of the employment market. In this systemic setup in which both Karunanayake and I are also a part, it would be difficult to think in terms of humanity with a self-conscious sense of empathy. That is, in systemic and structural terms, this is not what is anticipated even though individuals still have considerable leeway to nudge their students – both in schools and universities – think out of the box, be reflective and conscious of one’s circumstances as they go about fulfilling the formal requirements of learning. In Sri Lanka’s context, it is precisely this reductionist system of learning that creates divisive, competitive and exclusivist notions of ethno-cultural and religious identities that have by now considerably subverted the more inclusive kind of Sri Lankan citizenship that statesmen like Kannangara envisaged at the time of Independence.
As his writings suggest however, Karunanayake does not absolve himself from this overall scheme of things. But by critiquing what needs to be critiqued and being reflective of what could be changed, he is attempting to offer specific avenues of hope by entering the public domain with his ideas rather than becoming a voiceless prisoner within the prevailing system. Decision-makers in Sri Lanka’s educational system today seem to have conveniently forgotten the basic implications of education to young people that Jiddu Krishnamurti outlined in Education and the Significance of Life. As he noted, “while one is young is the time to investigate, to experiment with everything. The school should help its young people to discover their vocations and responsibilities, and not merely cram their minds with facts and technical knowledge; it should be the soil in which they can grow without fear, happily and integrally.” This was also the kind of broader education the Kannangara reforms anticipated beyond its hoped-for impact on people’s social mobility.
Second Theme
The second theme that runs across some of Karunanayake’s essays focuses on the possibilities of opening Sri Lanka’s higher education to private investment. His general position is that private capital does have a role to play in the country’s university education system, which is not a popular position to hold in Sri Lanka’s public and often noisy debates on education. Most educationists in the country argue that the burden of university education in terms of both planning and costs of delivery should be the responsibility of the state. I am sympathetic to this idea as long as the state also takes the responsibility to guarantee the quality of education at all levels, the competence of teachers, equity of access and finally that the education offered by universities also creates a broader sense of citizenship as opposed to parochial-minded individuals. But we know from experience at both school and university levels in Sri Lanka that the state has not been able to fulfill these ideals. In such a situation, to chant the mantra of an exclusively state-led higher education makes little sense. What Karunanayake proposes for Sri Lanka is a private university sector based on what he calls an ‘indigenous model.’ But even in this call, he does not envisage the abolishment of the state system. What he visualizes instead is a parallel system.
Karunanayake’s arguments in support of private education is not leaning towards unmitigated privatization. Instead, what he favours is what might be called an ‘enlightened infusion of private capital into higher education’ which might expand the country’s higher education opportunities as well as areas for social justice. The post-1977 liberalization of Sri Lanka’s markets has ensured capital influx into many areas of the national economy. The healthcare sector is one of them. Education at the school level and college level training for universities overseas have also seen an expansion in the private sector. One cannot simply assume if a country’s economic policies embrace capitalism and its people seem to prefer it, only selected areas – like higher education – might not be impacted by these schemes. Such a position is simply not sensible. Privatization of university education does not necessarily have to mean inequitable access. Its potential ill-effects can be controlled to some extent by appropriate state policies that guarantee access through scholarships and financial aid schemes. After all, it is not that such schemes have not been successfully experimented with in other parts of the world. But this area has merely remained an area of anxiety and virulent argumentation in Sri Lanka’s public sphere where nuanced reflection has generally been absent. It is to this contentious debate that Karunanayake’s essays that deal with privatization of university education beckons us. One does not need to agree with him. But what he writes in this matter is worth reflecting upon.
Status of universities
Karunanayake also reflects on the status and role of the university as an institution in the Sri Lankan context. But his reflections are not only about how universities must function as competent forums for advanced technical training in different disciplines. This is certainly one of the most important roles universities can and should play in contemporary times. More importantly, he also wonders how universities might also be spaces for reflection. It is about the university’s role in the first sense referred to above that states, including the Sri Lankan state, have paid considerable attention to. Technical education offered by universities has traditionally focused on this aspect in any case. But its over-emphasis in contemporary times, its popular acceptance by most people today and state support to this hegemonic understanding of the university has degraded its once-cherished ideal as a place of reflection and responsible social and political commentary. While Karunanayake is in agreement that universities must offer technical competencies as he himself does as a medical academic, he does not believe it must necessarily be offered at the cost of reflection. To put it more simply, his opinion differs considerably from many of his and my colleagues in the Sri Lankan higher education sector whose only focus is on training individuals for the needs of the market, an attitude shared by most students as well. It is truly unfortunate the present moment in the 21st century, many of us have lost sight of the fundamental difference between a university and a technical college.
‘University and society’
It is in this spirit that Karunanayake, in the chapter titled, ‘University and Society: To Tango or Not’ refers to Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan’s ideas on the ideal university as a place for the “promotion of liberty of mind or freedom of thought” which “has little to do with the protection of privilege or call for conformity.” It is the same idea that Rabindranath Tagore also promoted in the early twentieth century in his essay, . ‘Ideals of Education’ when he noted, “universities should never be made into mechanical organizations for collecting and distributing knowledge. Through them the people should offer their intellectual hospitality, their wealth of mind to others, earn their proud right in return to receive gifts from the rest of the world.” It is possible to dismiss these ideas as old-fashioned, and to argue the university’s role today is to merely fulfill the requirements of a technical education. Support for this reductionist idea comes from within the university as well as from within the country’s governance structure. It is precisely the poverty of such thinking that has diminished the overall intellectual value of Sri Lanka’s higher education even though in selected fields, the technical training offered might be on par with what is provided in other parts of the world. It is heartening to note that Karunanayake has brought this important cluster of thinking to forums of pubic debate through his writing.
Karunanayake’s collection of essays enters public circulation as a body of reflections linked to his training, social background and ideological positions at a time Sri Lankan society in general and the country’s broader education system in particular are experiencing profound and multiple crises. In this difficult context as a university teacher, what come to my mind are the following words of Rabindranath Tagore outlined in his essay, ‘Ideals of Education’: “I try to assert in my words and works that education has its only meaning and object in freedom – freedom from ignorance about the laws of the universe, and freedom from passion and prejudice in our communications with the human world.” By bringing his ideas, concerns and ideological positions as a specific form of politics into public discourse away from his twin comfort zones in academia and medical practice, it seems to me that Karunanayake as a fellow university teacher is striving to live closer to the words of Tagore than to the disruptive hegemonic politics of our times.
Midweek Review
22A: Competing Opposition parties in dilemma
Silent petty backbiting among Opposition may result in it grabbing defeat from victory over NPP
There is no likelihood of the SJB and the UNP reaching consensus on a tangible arrangement in the near future though some asserted that they may agree on a united front against the ruling National People’s Power (NPP). Referring to
former President and UNP leader Ranil Wickremesinghe’s visit to Opposition Leader Sajith Premadasa’s Office on 23 July, a source familiar with the developments said that in spite of such gestures, underlying problems remain. Another source explained that a combined front may be useful in a campaign against a particular issue but the two parties needed a genuine arrangement ahead of the next countrywide election.
By Shamindra Ferdinando
United Republican Front (URF) leader Patali Champika Ranawaka recently thanked Health and Media Minister Dr. Nalinda Jayathissa for recognising the Janathawadi Joint Opposition as a real challenge to the National People’s Power (NPP) government. The NPP enjoys an unassailable 159 parliamentary seats.
The former Minister noted that Dr. Jayathissa, who is also the Cabinet spokesman, realised the political threat posed by them, though the main parliamentary Opposition party Samagi Jana Balawegaya consisted of 40 lawmakers.
Ranawaka refrained from naming the SJB as the main Opposition party he was referring to.
Addressing the media at the Flower Road Office of UNP leader Ranil Wickremesinghe, Ranawaka pointed out that the ruling party felt their challenge, though there were a plethora of Opposition parties in the Parliament.
Referring to Dr. Jayathissa’s recent accusation that they conspired at the Kirula Place, Colombo 5, residence of former External Affairs Minister Prof. G. L Peiris, Ranawaka appreciated the Minister’s declaration made at the expense of the SJB.
While the 40-member SJB group is the second largest group in Parliament, the Illankai Thamil Arasu Kadchi (ITAK) holds third position with eight seats whereas New Democratic Front (NDF) consists of five MPs. The NDF, that received the backing of Wickremesinghe at the 2024 parliamentary polls, is in fourth position, whereas the Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna (SLPP) parliamentary group consists of just three members. The SLPP suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of the NPP at the last parliamentary polls, held in November 2024. An angry electorate at the first parliamentary polls after the 2022 regime change project reduced the SLPP, from a commanding 145-seat group, to just three MPs. Defeated 2024 presidential election candidate Namal Rajapaksa was so fearful of the impending rout at the November 2024 polls, he took refuge in the SLPP National List.
The political grouping, based at the Flower Road office of Wickremesinghe, has gradually broadened its operation. The stepping up of the Flower Road operation must be examined taking into consideration the NPP targeting Wickremesinghe over his 2023 September visit to the UK. The NPP has alleged that Wickremesinghe squandered public funds at a time the country was undergoing extreme economic difficulties. The crux of the matter is whether Wickremesinghe, in his capacity as the President, spent Rs 16.2 man on a private visit.
In spite of the Flower Road project receiving the NPP’s attention, Wickremesinghe does not really command the NDF that contested under the ‘Gas Cylinder’ symbol. The NDF group in Parliament consists of former Badulla District SLPP lawmaker Chamara Sampath Dassanayake, former Kalutara District SLPP MP Rohitha Abeygunawardena, ex-SLPP Kandy District MP Andrada Jayaratne, ex-UNP Minister Ravi Karunanayake (National List) and former SLFP Minister Fizer Mustapha (National List).
It would be pertinent to mention that a major problem erupted within the NDF at the time of filling the two National List slots. Wickremesinghe is the undisputed leader of the NDF, though he lacked any formal recognition as such, fielded candidates for selected electoral districts outside the Northern and Eastern regions at the 2024 November polls. The NDL comprised the UNP, the SLFP and the SLPP breakaway faction ‘Podujana Eksath Nidahas Peramuna (PENP).’ All three elected members Dissanayake, Abeygunawardena and Jayaratne represented the PENP.
The SLFP received one National List slot whereas the General Secretary of the NDF, Sharmila Perera, regardless of strong objections by Wickremesinghe, accommodated Karunanayake as the other NDF National List nominee. Perera informed the Election Commission, in writing, while the coalition debated Karunanayake’s appointment. An influential section of the coalition favoured the appointment of Kanchana Wijesekera, of the PENP, as the other National List member.
Perera, in her capacity as the NDF’s General Secretary, chose Karunanayake whose involvement with the NDF is in the public domain. The Election Commission gazetted a notification on 18 November, 2024, naming Karunanayake to Parliament. Will discuss the NDF’s emergence as a significant political factor in the wake of the 2010 presidential election, the first national poll after the eradication of the separatist Tamil terrorist movement.
SJB strategy
Whether the SJB likes it or not, former Yahapalana Minister Ranawaka’s reaction to Dr. Jayathissa’s conspiracy claim highlighted the ongoing controversy surrounding the main Opposition party’s overall response to the NPP’s pet project, the enactment of the 22nd Amendment.
Some political commentators have harshly criticised SJB Chief, who is also the Opposition Leader, Sajith Premadasa, for failing to mount a large-scale counter offensive. Some of them have taken offence that Premadasa sort of played it safe in spite of the NPP seeking to bulldoze the Opposition, both in and outside Parliament. Various interested parties have asserted that Premadasa’s inaction has been influenced by his fear of the government hounding him with corruption investigations, targeting him and his wife Jalani.
In spite of much publicised gathering of recognised Opposition parties/groups at the Opposition Leader’s Office at No 30, Sir Marcus Fernando Mawatha, Colombo 07, on 23 July, 2026, also attended by Wickremesinghe, the SJB appeared to have failed to take the lead in the overall campaign against the 22nd Amendment. Had the government managed to neutralise the determined efforts of the Sri Lanka Bar Association (BASL) and the unexpected United Nations intervention, the Opposition campaign may have collapsed already.
The undeniable truth is the SJB never succeeded in taking command of the overall political strategy. Dr. Jayathissa’s claim and Ranawaka’s reaction clearly suggested the deterioration of the SJB’s status. But those who approve of the SJB’s handling of political developments seem confident the party is on the right track. They feel criticism directed at the SJB and Sajith Premadasa, in particular, unfair and utterly politically motivated. Social media criticism appeared to have troubled the SJB. Recently, the SJB contradicted and challenged the opinion expressed by Priyanjith Vitharana who posted political commentaries under the pseudonym ‘Rate Rala.’ The former General Secretary of the breakaway JVP group, the National Freedom Front (NFF), has emerged as one of the strongest critics of Premadasa’s style of Opposition politics. ‘Rate Rala’ relentlessly attacked the SJB leader and vigorously questioned what he called the Opposition Leader’s lukewarm reaction to the NPP’s challenge.
The SJB and the Wickremesinghe-led political grouping cannot turn a blind eye to President Anura Kumara Dissanayake’s impending high profile political campaign, countrywide. The NPP has declared that the campaign would be launched on 5 September. The NPP enjoys absolute political power to move large groups of people for their intended meetings as previous ruling parties did. But, in the absence of a cohesive political strategy, those in the Opposition are still unable to work out a strategy to counter the NPP campaign. The Cabinet spokesman has dared Wickremesinghe’s group to bring in people onto the streets instead of having clandestine meetings at the residence of Prof. Peiris, the convenor of the Janathawadi Joint Opposition.
Wickremesinghe’s five-member NDF group in Parliament is obviously divided over political strategy. It seems the members of the group are pulling in different directions. The SLFP’s Faizer Mustapha is somewhat silent on the 22nd Amendment and the remaining members haven’t been seen playing a role against the 22nd Amendment worth mentioning. Cobbling up alliances to overcome short-term political challenges is the bane of the Sri Lankan political setup. The NDF is no exception. Having suffered an expected defeat at the 2024 September presidential poll, Wickremesinghe utilised the NDF to bring together those at the mercy of the NPP. Wickremesinghe’s move dealt a devastating blow to the SLPP, struggling to cope up with the developing situation. The consequences of Wickremesinghe post-presidential actions caused irreparable damage. The fielding of SLPP candidates on the NDF ticket and also accommodating them on its National List, at the expense of the SLPP, undermined that party. Among those who betrayed the SLPP were former Prime Minister Dinesh Gunawardena and ex-Speaker Mahinda Yapa Abeywardena. But, Wickremesinghe didn’t care. By then, the SLPP had forgotten how in its capacity as the ruling party it elected Wickremesinghe as Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s successor at the expense of their own Dullas Alahapperuma who teamed up with the SJB to fight it out in Parliament.
The SLPP fell out with Wickremesinghe when the latter sought the ruling party’s backing at the 2024 presidential polls, the first post-Aragalaya (read regime change project) national election. At the end, Sajith Premadasa, Ranil Wickremesinghe and Namal Rajapaksa contested at the expense of a unified front. That enabled Anura Kumara Dissanayake to secure victory at the 2024 presidential race.
Unrealistic SJB-UNP partnership
In the run-up to the 2024 parliamentary polls, the writer, at a Flower Road Office briefing by UNP Deputy Leader Ruwan Wijewardena, raised the failure on the part of the UNP and the SJB to reach a consensus after Dissanayake won the presidency due to their dithering.
The former Deputy Defence Minister, struggled to explain the status on the SJB-UNP talks when the writer pointed out that Dissanayake polled 5,634,915 votes whereas Sajith Premadasa (4,363,035 votes) and Ranil Wickremesinghe (2,299,767) together polled 6,662,802- a staggering 1,027,887 votes more than the winner. Unfortunately, both camps remained adamant regarding the modalities of consensus/unification. Had the two parties realised the gravity of the situation and the extraordinary challenge the NPP posed, they could have shed whatever their differences to contest under one symbol. But the petty-minded SJB and UNP leaders squandered an opportunity that resulted in the NPP securing an unbeatable 159 seats at the presidential election.
The SJB and the UNP continue to move in different directions. Those who remain with the UNP appeared to be more comfortable having Dissanayake as the President than Premadasa. Wickremesinghe’s visit to the Opposition Leader’s Office seemed to have failed to achieve a genuine reconciliation between the two leaders. Soon after the 2019 presidential election that brought newcomer Gotabaya Rajapaksa to power, the internal crisis, within the UNP, intensified.
Defeated UNP contestant Deputy Leader Sajith Premadasa quit the party in early February 2020, to form the SJB. The SJB-led alliance was officially launched in March 2020 ahead of the parliamentary polls in August 2020. The UNP split in the aftermath of the 2019 presidential poll created an extremely unfavourable environment for Wickremesinghe who suffered a crushing defeat at the August parliamentary polls. The UNP was reduced to one National List slot whereas the SJB secured 54 seats, including seven National List slots. Wickremesinghe failed to retain his Colombo District parliamentary seat.
Wickremesinghe refrained from filling that solitary National List slot till June 2021. By then, the economic crisis had set in. Wickremesinghe entered Parliament on 23 June, 2021. Rapid economic deterioration led to sovereign default the following year. Political stability created an environment for Wickremnesinghe to exploit. Wickremesinghe didn’t hesitate to accept the premiership on 12 May, 2022, soon after SJB leader Sajith Premadasa turned down President Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s invitation. The beleaguered UNPer couldn’t have asked for more. The SLPP ended up electing Wickremesinghe as Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s successor 10 weeks later, a decision that the party now rued. In hindsight, the consensus between the Rajapaksas and Wickremesinghe, in the short term, benefited both parties but undermined efforts to iron out differences between the SJB and the UNP.
The UNP felt that it should have the final say in the issue at hand. However, the SJB quite rightly asserted that securing 54 seats at the 2020 parliamentary election should be taken into consideration. The UNP was down to one National List slot and in the wake of the SLPP accommodating Wickremesinghe in the Executive Office, Wajira Abeywardena filled that vacancy.
In fact, the UNP never relished consensus with the SJB. Instead, Wickremesinghe felt that it could extend his partnership with the SLPP, to his advantage, by securing its approval as the party’s 2024 presidential poll. Had that happened, the SLPP would have further deteriorated though Wickremesinghe could have polled a far larger share of votes at the presidential poll. Contesting as an independent, Wickremesinghe polled over 2.2 million votes at the presidential election. That defeat compelled Wickremesinghe, who turned 75 in the run-up to the presidential poll, not to join the parliamentary polls fray.
Wickremesinghe knew the signs. He knew the game was over and the UNP no longer appealed, even to die-hard supporters. The UNP leader quietly brought together the remnants of the UNP with the SLFP and SLPP and fielded them under the NDF’s symbol. As mentioned at the onset of this piece, the NDF, under Wickremesinghe’s leadership, obtained five seats. But, he never managed to retain control of the parliamentary group. Against the backdrop of an unprecedented deterioration of the UNP, the 22nd Amendment, in a way, has helped Wickremesinghe to work out a strategy to somewhat consolidate his position. The Flower Road operation has given Wickremesinghe some leverage as the NPP battled the high profile Bar Association of Sri Lanka (BASL)-led campaign against the 22nd Amendment.
NPP strategy
The NPP seems confident that the SJB and the UNP, under any circumstances, will not amalgamate or contest under one symbol. The NPP’s political strategy is based on the presumption that the two parties lacked the will to do so, though they realised their costly failure to reach consensus at the last presidential and parliamentary polls in 2024. Both parties suffered at the 2025 May Local Government polls as well. In a last-ditch attempt UNP leader Wickremesinghe proposed that the UNP and SJB contest the Colombo Municipal Council under one symbol. That proposal never materialised.
As a result, the UNP lost the CMC after more than 50 years. The UNP won the CMC in 2011 when the rival UPFA, led by the then President Mahinda Rajapaksa, won all other local government bodies outside the Northern and Eastern Provinces, two years after the eradication of the LTTE.
Opposition sources acknowledged that nothing short of an arrangement to contest the next election, under one symbol, wouldn’t help them. “We are unable to fully exploit the deterioration of public confidence in the NPP due to the appalling failure to bring talks between the two parties to a successful conclusion,” a source familiar with the developments said.
The 22nd Amendment gave an opportunity for the SJB, with 40 MPs in Parliament, and the UNP, sans any parliamentary representation, to finalise an arrangement. Unfortunately, they failed to do so, thereby allowed the government to proceed with the strategy. A major campaign, led by President Dissanayake himself, scheduled to be launched on 5 September, underscored their strategy, whereas the Opposition remained still unsure of its own counter-strategy. Had they at least managed to organise a few mega rallies with the participation of the entire Opposition, the NPP may have come under real pressure. Unfortunately, even after the Illankai Thamil Arasu Kadchi (ITAK) and Tamil Progressive Front (TPA) representing upcountry political parties declared strong opposition to 22nd Amendment, the SJB couldn’t take the lead in organising a large-scale counter campaign. Instead, the Janathawadi Joint Opposition, operating out of the Flower Road Office, has exploited the situation to its advantage.
Despite both the SJB and the UNP (Janathawadi Joint Opposition) moving the Supreme Court against the 22nd Amendment, they conveniently failed to appear together at regular media briefings, held at Wickremesinghe’s Flower Road Office, where Prof. Peiris, in his capacity as the convenor of the grouping, meticulously dealt with the developing story.
Regardless of the failure on the part of the SJB and the UNP to finalise an arrangement with eyes on the next election, the BASL-led campaign against the 22nd Amendment caused significant damage to the NPP’s reputation. The BASL’s shocking revelation that two deserving justices, namely senior justice of the Court of Appeal, Dhammika Ganepola, and senior-most justice of the Court of Appeal, justice R. Gurusinghe, were deprived of promotion to the Supreme Court by the incumbent administration, was received by the public with disappointment. The BASL released 17 August, 2026, dated, hitherto unpublished letter, addressed to President Dissanayake, that dealt with unfilled vacancies in the superior courts, while the government preached the public of its determination to deal with a mountain of case backlog.
Unfortunately, the Opposition campaign lacked direction though some former and present lawmakers targeted the 22nd Amendment. With almost all who moved the Supreme Court against the 22nd Amendment seeking all remaining judges of the Supreme Court to hear the petitions with the BASL suggesting that Chief Justice recuse himself of hearing the cases over conflict of interests and all agreeing on a referendum to approve of the controversial constitutional amendment, the apex court constitutionally is authorised to take three weeks to decide on the issue at hand.
The decision is expected to be communicated to Speaker Dr. Jagath Wickremaratne around the time President Dissanayake completed his second turbulent year in Office on 21 September.
Midweek Review
The local and global dynamics of Sri Lanka’s 22nd Amendment
Beyond noise and acrimony:
by Sasanka Perera
(The writer is on X as @sasmester)
Background
The Sri Lankan government has proposed to introduce the 22nd Amendment to the Constitution focused on increasing the retirement age for Supreme Court and Court of Appeal judges. Coupled with parallel legislative adjustments to the Judicature Act of 1978 governing the functioning of lower-tier courts, the initiative has drawn sharp criticism from domestic legal bodies, opposition political parties, human rights activists and scrutiny from international organisations, most notably the United Nations Special Rapporteur on the Independence of Judges and Lawyers.
Locally however, much of the debate is lost in the noise of acrimony, name-calling and what can only be called ‘social media violence’ rather than becoming a sensible discourse of rational and courteous debate. A week ago, a simple tweet from me on my wariness over getting the UN involved in this matter and the UN’s general bias towards countries like ours literally went viral, castigating me as a supporter of the government. My public writing in support and often in opposition to government positions — as demanded by different cases and situations — had no impact whatsoever. This virulent noise has no place in democratic practice, which all these noisemakers nevertheless claim to protect. This essay, however, finds its genesis in that noise as a means of making sense of the politics of the 22nd Amendment for myself and for any sensible people who might want to ponder over its implications.
As far as my understanding goes as a citizen without a legal background, the present controversy touches on the core tension amongst practical administrative necessity as seen by the government, constitutional integrity as argued by many in the legal profession, human rights advocates and opposition politicians and the geopolitics of international human rights oversight exercised by entities such as the UN.
Under Article 107 of Sri Lanka’s 1978 Constitution, the mandatory retirement age for Supreme Court judges is 65 years, while Court of Appeal judges must retire at 63 years. The proposed 22nd constitutional amendment seeks to raise these limits by two years. That is, extending Supreme Court tenure to 67 years and Court of Appeal tenure to 65 years. It also proposes that the number of judges in the Court of Appeal be increased from 19 to 24. Further, in the case of the Chief Justice, it is specified that the retirement date would be 67 years or after completing six years in office, subject to whichever comes first. In parallel, the government has also proposed to amend the Judicature Act of 1978 with the aim of raising the retirement age of High Court judges to 63 years and for District Court judges and Magistrates to 62 years. In other words, the overall proposal is to increase the retirement age of judges throughout the judicial hierarchy by two years.
Government’s Rationale
The government’s justifications for the proposed amendment rests on two general parameters. One is efficiency in judicial administration. The other is the retention of experienced judges for an additional period of two years. In this context, the government and its supporters in civil society do not perceive the proposal as a political maneouvre, but rather as an urgent administrative intervention that is essential to clear the backlog of cases throughout the judicial system. There is no doubt that the system is clearly overworked, understaffed and inefficient, and as a result, burdened with a serious backlog of cases.
Sri Lankan courts face an acute backlog exceeding 1.1 million pending cases according to some estimates. In this context, the government’s argument is that retaining seasoned judges is vital to maintain case disposal rates and prevent systemic paralysis. Extending judicial service is presented as a pragmatic mechanism to preserve institutional memory and combat capacity shortages.
Objections and Opposition
Despite official justifications, most of which seem legitimate based on actual experience and existing data, some legal analysts, opposition figures, and civil society groups suspect unstated political objectives behind the timing and structure of the reform. For them, a primary concern is that the amendment is structured to apply retroactively or immediately to sitting judges rather than prospective future appointees. Critics suggest this directly benefits specific high-ranking figures ranging from the incumbent Chief Justice to senior appellate judges, who are nearing the mandatory retirement age while overseeing politically sensitive cases. On the other hand, one can argue it is precisely because some of them are presiding over politically sensitive cases, that they need to complete the relevant cases for which experience, familiarity as well as institutional memory are essential.
However, there is no doubt that extending the tenure during an active term creates the impression of a government benefit granted to sitting judges. Whether this is the intention or whether it becomes reality, appearances do matter. The main point opponents bring out is, this specific intervention risks compromising the perception of judicial neutrality in a situation where sitting judges might be perceived as indebted to political authority for extending their service. While this is indeed a possibility, it is nevertheless not a necessary outcome.
Formal and vocal opposition at the moment is led by the Bar Association of Sri Lanka, local political parties, and some constitutional experts. But this has not become a bread-and-butter issue yet in the country. That is, there is no way this issue will capture the public imagination in the manner more pressing bread and butter issues did in the aragalaya of 2022. Also, Sri Lanka’s fractured and delegitimised opposition sharing the same argumentative plain with an entity like the Bar Association of Sri Lanka does not help the latter when it comes to generating public sympathy for its cause however legitimate it might be.
To my understanding and reading between the lines amidst the deafening noise in the vocal opposition, the above concerns are based on several core arguments.
One has to do with the perceived erosion of the separation of powers. That is, changing the retirement age of sitting judges mid-tenure can compromise constitutional predictability and impartiality. Theoretically, fixed retirement ages exist in judicial systems globally to specifically protect judges from executive interference or influence. The second concern I can see but not clearly articulated by sceptics has to do with the possibilities of career stagnation. In other words, delaying emergent vacancies at the Supreme Court and Court of Appeal will create a bottleneck across the entire judicial hierarchy for some time, potentially demoralising junior judges in the High Courts and District Courts awaiting elevation. Finally, there is a concern over the long-term government failure to effectively utilise cadre expansion that has already been made possible which precedes the present government’s access to office. Prior constitutional changes (such as the 20th Amendment) already had expanded the numerical capacity of the superior courts. In this context, the argument is that the government should focus on filling existing vacancies with new appointees rather than altering the tenure of current judges. Purely as matters of principle, theory and potential impact on democratic governance, none of these concerns are spurious.
The UN Special Rapporteur’s Intervention
The 22nd Amendment is no longer merely a local political issue. On 7 August 2026, Margaret Satterthwaite, the UN Special Rapporteur on the Independence of Judges and Lawyers, addressed a five-page official communication to the Sri Lankan government based on ‘information’ her office had received and issued 7 requests for further information. Internationalisation of the politics surrounding the 22nd Amendment is also an integral part of Sri Lanka’s oppositional politics. While acknowledging that raising retirement ages can preserve expertise, her mandate emphasised that alterations to judicial tenure must adhere strictly to international standards. The Special Rapporteur highlights a number of primary concerns, which include the following: 1) She is concerned with the application of the proposed changes to sitting judges. That is, extending terms for sitting judges without clear, objective, and transparent transitional safeguards creates the risk or perception of political favor. 2) Second, she has raised concerns over the lack of broad consultations in introducing the proposal. In other words, the rapid introduction of the amendment without inclusive public and professional stakeholder consultation can threaten public trust in the rule of law. 3) Finally, she has also referred to a potential conflict of interest. That is sitting judges benefiting from the extension could face a structural conflict of interest if called upon to adjudicate constitutional challenges against the very amendment that extended their careers.
In a sense, these concerns are very similar to the concerns raised by the local opposition. But in real terms, is the 22nd Amendment unusual or inherently anti-democratic that it warrants a UN body to be this concerned when in general it is often not concerned beyond rhetoric in far worse situations? Increasing judicial retirement ages is a common trend globally, driven by demographic shifts and longer life expectancy. However, the mechanisms and contexts of various cases differ considerably. Through the Public Service Pensions and Judicial Offices Act 2022, the United Kingdom raised the mandatory retirement age for judicial office holders from 70 to 75. This included judges, magistrates, and coroners. The rationale for this provided by the UK government at the time cited improvements in life expectancy, the need to address post-pandemic court backlogs, and recruitment gaps across courts. Crucially, the change followed a comprehensive public consultation involving over 1,000 responses from legal professionals, the magistracy, and civic bodies.
An Australian state and a self-governing territory, namely, New South Wales and Northern Territory offer other recent examples. Australia does not have a single uniform retirement age for all state and federal judges. Under Section 72 of the Australian Constitution, federal judges have a fixed retirement age of 70. However, individual states have raised state-level judicial retirement ages at different times. In 2018, New South Wales enacted the Justice Legislation Amendment Act (No. 2) 2018, raising the mandatory retirement age for state judges and magistrates from 72 to 75. Similarly, in 2019, the Northern Territory also raised the retirement age for Supreme Court judges from 70 to 72 years under the Justice Legislation Amendment Act 2019.
But the UN Special Rapporteur did not issue formal communications or allegations to either the United Kingdom or the Australian state and territory regarding these specific tenure increases — with reason. For one thing, both the UK and Australian state and territorial governments conducted long-term, transparent public consultations with legal professional bodies prior to enacting legislation. That is, there was an appearance of reasonability. On the other hand, in these cases, the reforms were introduced as broad, systemic statutory updates rather than ad-hoc constitutional amendments enacted amid heightened domestic political tension or ongoing sensitive litigation involving sitting judges as is the case in Sri Lanka. Finally, in these cases, the policy changes were implemented via general legislative consensus rather than executive-driven constitutional maneuvers that directly benefited individual judges in real-time in the short term.
Further, in these cases, as far as I can see, there were no formal complaints to the UN from any entity in these countries given that there were adequate consultations. On the other hand, unlike the UK or Australia, bodies like the UN generally assume countries like Sri Lanka are inherently anti-democratic and therefore need oversight. It is in such a context that the UN Special Rapporteurs have routinely issued communications to other countries that have altered judicial terms. For example, Poland, Hungary, and Bolivia have received such communications when changes to judicial retirement ages or tenure were perceived as attempts by the governments concerned to alter the composition of courts or erode judicial independence. The Sri Lankan case too must be understood in such a situation. The government, on its part, has submitted a six-page response accompanied by two annexures to the Special Rapporteur’s communication on 21 August 2026. It responds fully to the queries raised by the Special Rapporteur rationally. However, if it closes the matter remains to be seen.
The problem in this context is that Sri Lanka has the added complication of having a resolution on its human rights situation in the United Nations Human Rights Council since 2012. The next formal update on this resolution is scheduled for the 63rd session of the UN Human Rights Council taking place from 7 September to 9 October 2026. My concern in internationalising a domestic issue such as the opposition to the 22nd Amendment is that it could feed into the longstanding resolution giving further ammunition to Sri Lanka sceptics and detractors both in and outside the country. This is an unnecessary burden for a country like Sri Lanka lacking the power wielded by mass human rights violators such as Israel and its sponsor the United States. It is also a needless distraction for a country that is trying to reinvent itself. In such a situation, dealing with the sins of the predecessors does not help, more so, when UN impartiality is known to be selective.
The Future of the 22nd
Amendment
The controversy surrounding Sri Lanka’s proposed 22nd Amendment illustrates the delicate equilibrium required in constitutional governance and democratic practice. On a practical level, the government’s argument addresses an undeniable operational crisis. That is, as a means to deal with an overburdened legal system requiring the retention of experienced judicial personnel to deliver timely justice. Yet, on a principled level, constitutional safeguards exist precisely to ensure that procedural mechanisms are insulated from perceived political manipulation. In my mind, the government’s cardinal mistake was not to have wide-ranging consultations and information sharing programmes before the proposal became a contentious issue. This is simply good PR and common sense. Consultations and information sharing do not mean wholesale adherence to opposition positions. It simply means transparency, accepting what is reasonable, not accepting what makes no sense and offering at least a semblance of fair play. This would have also ensured that the government did not need to be overly defensive as it is now. In any case, given its overwhelming majority in parliament, the government does not need any support from the opposition to pass legislation. But it can certainly afford to be politically intelligent, sophisticated and mature in its public demeanor.
When a government alters the terms of service for sitting judges, the primary challenge is rarely the increased age limit. Rather, it is the need to preserve public trust in judicial neutrality. As comparative examples demonstrate, nations can adjust judicial tenure legally and successfully when changes are accompanied by broad professional consensus, prospective application, and transparent legislative processes.
Sri Lanka’s challenge lies in balancing the immediate demands of judicial efficiency against the enduring requirement that constitutional reforms must satisfy both domestic legitimacy and established international standards of judicial independence, particularly in a situation the latter is inherently oppositional to nations who do not have a veto or global political wherewithal to withstand pressure.
Midweek Review
The ‘Ice’ Avalanche
By Lynn Ockersz
‘Sunshine Isle’ saw it coming right along,
Yet did not heed well the warning rumbles,
Of this ‘Ice’ avalanche that’s flattening lives,
Particularly those of the land’s young,
That are verily the nation’s life blood,
But there’s more at issue in this grave crime,
Than seizing kingpins and locking them up;
It’s rather a question of making the young see,
That their lives ahead are full of possibilities.
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