Opinion
KNDU: MBBS for the rich, crumbs for the poor
By RAMYA KUMAR
A regular day at work. A medical student, Niluka (not her real name), comes to my office to discuss the presentation she is due to make at a research symposium. In the middle of our meeting she is in tears. Her mother, a single mother, who works as a security guard in remote Polonnaruwa, cannot afford her boarding fees as she has to cover her sister’s A/L tuition classes, as well as her brother’s medicines for a recent health issue. Niluka is unable to focus on her presentation because she is worried about her financial situation. She has a year and half to go.
This is the picture of Free Education that many do not see, of students struggling to make ends meet. Such stories are commonplace at our non-fee levying state universities; as Sumathy Sivamohan wrote recently, “free education does not serve everybody equally, but over the years and across decades, it has come to represent the hope of a vast majority for a better place in society.” However, this aspect of Free Education is obscured by images of protesting students “wasting tax-payers’ money,” constructed by the media in the service of the state. While Colombo-based elites (and others) may be duped into seeing the Kotelawala National Defence University (KNDU) Bill and military repression as solutions to the problems in higher education, this article explores what the Bill really means, especially its implications for medical education.
No vision, no imagination
Free Education, despite its marginalisations and exclusions, is etched in our nation’s consciousness, so much so that governments have been reluctant to overtly dismantle the public education system. Instead, they have stealthily underfunded the system, while incentivising expansion of private education. With inadequate public investment, the state universities under the UGC are floundering to service demand, while the fee-levying Kotelawala Defence University (KDU) and non-state fee-levying higher educational institutions, such as SLIIT, receive state subsidies to finance infrastructure as well as student loans.
Fee-levying universities are simply not affordable for the vast majority in this country. To flourish, they require public-financing, both for their establishment and for student loans, to make them accessible to the masses. While escalating investment in KDU and private fee-levying universities through public funds, the government has adopted a zero-investment policy for state universities under the UGC and increased admissions by a third, this year. The fallout of increasing admissions without budgetary allocations is most felt by universities in peripheral districts, already running on meagre resources.
A government’s vision for education is inextricably linked with its economic policy. While lacking a credible vision for education, successive governments have been equally unimaginative in attempts to improve the economy. Sri Lanka relies on imports for day-to-day essentials, such as lentils, pulses, and milk, with little investment in agriculture or agro-industries for value addition. Meanwhile, billions of rupees are lost in tax incentives to attract (elusive) foreign direct investment, including in education. The Board of Investment expanded its purview to include the social sector in the 1990s, essentially opening education to the global market. The latter has changed the landscape of education in the country with international schools, private colleges and other higher education institutions proliferating in the decades since, and creating parallel systems of education for students from rich and poor families.
Enter KNDU
Faced by mounting debt, the government is desperately looking for avenues to build up its foreign reserves. In 2019, the incumbent government proposed a “free education investment zone” to attract investment from “top international universities,” with accompanying tax exemptions, yet another scheme to subsidise the private sector through public funding. With COVID-19, the plans for the investment zone fell by the wayside. However, just a few years after the SAITM debacle, the government is once again looking to expand private medical education, this time through the KDU.
In 2019, the incumbent President’s manifesto, which is the government’s policy framework, stated that “steps will be taken to expand the Kotelawala Defence University” (p.22). Why KDU? Because the majority of its students are enrolled on a fee-levying basis through mechanisms outside the UGC’s Z score-based system. Although seemingly catering to the military, a closer look at the statistics presented on the website of KDU’s Faculty of Medicine, indicate that the number of medical students recruited doubled, and then tripled, once the faculty began to enroll “non-military foreign students.” As recruitment was limited to foreign students, albeit loosely defined, KDU did not encounter too much controversy.
The KNDU Bill proposes to build a parallel militarised university system, and alternatively, a change to the Universities Act of 1978 aims to bring KDU under the purview of the UGC, as a university for a “specific purpose.” Clearly, the appeal of KDU and other “specific purpose” universities is not their potential to strengthen Free Education. That these reforms will increase the military’s involvement in higher education has been the focus of debate in recent weeks, but less attention has been paid to their implications for education opportunities for students like Niluka, and their potential impact on medical education.
‘MBBS Kada’
Both the proposed KNDU Bill and the amendment to the Universities Act can be viewed as attempts to create the conditions for the expansion of fee-levying MBBS degree programmes, which have been resisted since the days of NCMC. The KNDU Bill will give legal authority for KNDU to recognise and affiliate other institutions to KNDU, bypassing the UGC as well as the Sri Lanka Medical Council’s minimum standards. The Bill will ultimately result in the proliferation of poorly regulated ‘MBBS kada,’ and a decline in the overall standards of medical education.
Even the Association of Medical Specialists (AMS), a body not averse to private education, has made the following statement regarding the KNDU Bill: “On principle, the AMS is not against quality fee levying medical education…if it is regulated and monitored by the UGC and the Sri Lanka Medical Council. However, lack of proper process and transparency will prevent the establishment of such fee levying institutions in Sri Lanka.”
Could expanding medical education in this manner present opportunities to address problems in the health sector, such as the regional maldistribution of physicians?
First, if KNDU and its affiliates aim to attract international medical students, it is unlikely that these graduates would serve in Sri Lanka.
Second, as the Bill will enable KNDU to admit local students, if we assume the current fee structure of upwards of Rs. 1 million per year for the MBBS programme, the KNDU medical students would represent the elite who are more likely to immigrate to greener pastures.
Third, if the government intends to broad-base MBBS degree programmes, they would need to offer hefty student loans to our students. Evidence from other countries suggests that medical graduates with student loans are more likely to opt for higher paying specialties rather than work in primary care, and less likely to serve in rural areas.
It is therefore unlikely that the KNDU Bill would contribute towards advancing the health sector, except perhaps through its military cadets, who would most likely work for the Ministry of Defence and not the Ministry of Health.
Student loans may have other unintended consequences. Despite private practice being widespread, many doctors, especially women non-specialist doctors, do not engage in private practice. In fact, general doctors from peripheral districts often do return to their districts, although they may remain in urban centres owing to the poor education facilities available to children in remote rural areas. These doctors make up the physician workforce in base hospitals and above, as well as in the preventive sector, in all parts of the country. Having to repay a student loan may drive such doctors to remain in districts, where private practice is more available and lucrative, intensifying the regional maldistribution of physicians.
Crumbs for the poor
What of students like Niluka in the non-fee levying state university system? A quick perusal of the website of KDU’s Faculty of Medicine indicates that brain drain may have already commenced. Imagine the fate of our non-fee levying state medical faculties with the mushrooming of ‘MBBS kada’ across the country? They will inevitably offer higher salaries, as does KDU, attracting without any outlay teachers whose training was subsidised by state universities. Furthermore, as reported in the media, KDU has already seen massive state investment, much of it in its teaching hospital, far beyond investments in any single university or faculty of medicine under the UGC. The fate of medical education at non-fee levying state universities does not need to be spelled out here. With their weakening, the demographics of students who enter medicine are sure to change, with fewer and fewer opportunities for students like Niluka, not to mention the broader implications for medical education and the healthcare system.
Let’s stand together to protect Free Education and Free Medical Education!
(The writer is attached to the Department of Community and Family Medicine, Faculty of Medicine, University of Jaffna).
Opinion
Panadura debate: special exhibition most welcome
The special exhibition displaying original manuscripts relating to the Panadura Debate at Rankoth Vihara is welcome and, as Nishantha Peiris mentions (News, 30 Aug), the debate gained international interest following the publication of a book containing the speeches made in the debate. The credit for this must be given to John Capper, the then editor of the Ceylon Times. He published an account of each day’s proceedings in his paper and the full text of the speeches in a book entitled ‘Full Account of the Buddhist Controversy Held at Pantura in August 1873.
The preface of the book stated: ‘In the belief that an authentic account of the Controversy which took place at Pantura in August last, between a Buddhist Priest and two Ministers of the Protestant religion, will be read with interest by a large number of persons here and in Europe. I have produced the proceedings in the present form. The report has been revised by the respective disputants, so that it may be taken as a correct account of what passed’.
Capper’s book was picked up by J M Peebles who was in India, who then published an extended version in the United States. If an original copy of Capper’s book is available in Sri Lanka, it should be exhibited in the Rankoth exhibition.
Yours faithfully,
Dr R P Fernando,
19 Danetree Close,
Epsom UK
Opinion
In Memory of Dr Upatissa Pethiyagoda
It is with a deep sense of sadness that I record the passing of Dr Upatissa Pethiyagoda, who died on 27 August 2026 at the age of 94. To many, he was a distinguished scientist, accomplished administrator, diplomat and public intellectual. To me, he was much more than that.
Dr Pethiyagoda was a proud product of Trinity College, Kandy. At a time when a first class in Botany was a rarity, he obtained one and subsequently pursued postgraduate studies in London. His scientific career reflected not only his knowledge but, more importantly, an enquiring and restless mind that was never satisfied with simply accepting what was known.
In the 1970s, he headed the Plant Physiology Department of the Tea Research Institute of Sri Lanka. He was part of a formidable team of scientists that included Drs R L de Silva, R L Wickramasinghe, P Sivapalan, Tilak Wettasinghe and W Danthanarayana. They were scientists who contributed enormously to the development of the tea industry in Sri Lanka, and Dr Pethiyagoda stood comfortably among them.
In 1978, he moved to the Coconut Research Institute as its Director. It was there that I had the privilege of working with him. Those years left a lasting impression on me.
Dr Pethiyagoda was, in every sense, a complete scientist. Although his formal specialisation was plant physiology, he was remarkably comfortable discussing almost anything scientific. What distinguished him was his curiosity. He questioned the science behind the ordinary things that most of us simply accepted. I remember his asking questions such as, why is an orange green in Sri Lanka? It was typical of him: an apparently simple observation would lead him to ask what lay behind it.
That curiosity never left him.
After his tenure at the CRI, he undertook an FAO assignment in the Middle East, working on the improvement of date palms. There he was exposed to agriculture under conditions of severe water scarcity. He pursued this further during a visit to Israel, learning about agronomic practices suited to such environments. Later, when he worked with the Mahaweli Authority, he was able to translate that knowledge into practice, introducing high-value horticultural crops to Systems B and C.
What impressed me was not merely that he acquired knowledge, but that he connected knowledge from one context to another and turned it into practical solutions. His enquiring mind and analytical ability enabled him to do this with remarkable effectiveness.
He was equally impressive as a communicator. Dr Pethiyagoda was an eloquent speaker, whether he was talking about science, agriculture, public policy or the everyday affairs of our country. His speeches were often laced with wit, humour and the occasional tongue-in-cheek remark. But beneath the humour was a very serious mind. He was forthright in his opinions and, importantly, he was not afraid to express them, whatever the possible repercussions.
His contributions to the media demonstrated this courage.
Writing about the travel to London by a former President, he observed:
“Where a person enjoys immunity by virtue of his position, this carries a reciprocal obligation to exercise an abundance of exemplary behaviour. In effect, immunity is best exercised, when the need to invoke it, is never allowed to arise.”
[Immunity Does Not Confer Impunity – Colombo Telegraph]
That was quintessential Pethiyagoda—precise, pointed and impossible to misunderstand.
He was equally outspoken about the government’s decision to ban inorganic fertiliser with ‘immediate effect’. He was deeply distressed by what he believed would be the consequences for farmers, particularly the poorer farming community. He would speak about it almost every day, driven not by political considerations but by his conviction that science and evidence had been disregarded.
In one of his writings on the subject, he remarked:
“What the ‘Vipathmaga’ caper taught us was that advice of sundry ‘Experts’ can be disastrous. Professors of Surgery, clergymen and Pediatricians are not the best equipped to advise on fertilisers, as much as a Soil Scientist should not prescribe treatment for a sick child.’ [Some Lessons That Can Be Learned Even From Disasters – Colombo Telegraph]
And in another article, his frustration was summed up in the memorable words:
“Stupidity, like History, has a way of repeating itself.”
[Unscrambling eggs – Colombo Telegraph]
These were not simply provocative statements. They reflected a scientist who believed deeply that public decisions, particularly those affecting agriculture and the livelihoods of farmers, should be based on evidence and sound scientific advice.
Perhaps, what I will remember most about Dr Pethiyagoda is that his curiosity survived almost to the very end of his life.
Very recently, he was still asking questions and pursuing ideas. He was interested in the possible genetic differences between the waraka and wela varieties of jak, because he wondered whether the wela variety might have commercial potential for cellulose extraction. He was disappointed that he could not find relevant scientific literature in Sri Lanka. More than the particular subject, what struck me was that at 94 he was still thinking about a scientific question, looking for evidence and wondering whether an apparently ordinary resource could have an important national application. He lamented the lack of interest among scientists and academics in such questions of national importance. That concern, too, was very much part of who he was.
Dr Pethiyagoda also served as President of the National Academy of Sciences, Sri Lanka. Unfortunately, he was unable to complete his term because he was appointed Ambassador to Italy, with representation at the Food and Agriculture Organization in Rome. Even in that role, he remained very much the scientist. I understand that he made a significant contribution to FAO discussions. As Ambassador, he also had the unenviable task of entertaining Sri Lankan Ministers of Agriculture who attended FAO sessions. I know from my own conversations with him that those informal dinners were not merely social occasions. He would discuss agricultural issues with the Ministers, and I have little doubt that his views—and the force with which he expressed them—sometimes influenced their thinking.
Looking back, what I admired most about Dr Pethiyagoda was not any particular position he held or any particular achievement. It was the way he thought.
He questioned.
He analysed.
He connected ideas.
He challenged conventional wisdom.
And he was willing to say what he believed to be true.
He also demonstrated that science should not remain confined to laboratories, research papers or academic institutions. For him, science was a way of looking at the world and, ultimately, a means of improving the lives of people.
It is perhaps ironic that, only a few months ago, he wrote about “The Cost of Dying”, as distinct from the “Cost of Living”. In that article, he reflected on the manner in which our mortal remains should be disposed of, observing: “I am in two minds regarding the manner in which the mortal remains are disposed of, ‘according to the will of the deceased’. But with the cessation of the breath, ownership or tenancy ceases.” Even in contemplating death, he brought his characteristic questioning mind to the subject. What particularly caught my attention, however, was his explanation of the Buddhist practice of holding dânes (almsgivings) for monks of the local temple in the seventh day and third month following a death. I had never really thought about the significance of this practice before. That, too, was typical of Dr Pethiyagoda: he could take something that we had accepted as ordinary and familiar and make us stop, think and see it differently.
His passing has created a colossal vacuum in Sri Lanka’s scientific community. People of his intellectual breadth, curiosity, courage and independence are rare. We may not always have agreed with everything he said, but we could never doubt that he had thought deeply about it and that he had the courage of his convictions.
For those of us who had the privilege of knowing him, there is sadness in his passing. But there is also gratitude—for having known such an extraordinary mind, for having learnt from him, and for having witnessed at close quarters his unwavering commitment to science and to the development of our country.
I shall remember Dr Pethiyagoda with great affection and immense respect.
Ranjith Mahindapala
Past President, National Academy of Sciences of Sri Lanka.
Opinion
A neighbour’s view of India’s strategic strengths
What India chooses to do with the strategic freedom it has built over eight decades may be the defining question of its next phase
by Milinda Moragoda
In the emerging global economy, countries will increasingly seek multiple sources of energy, technology, capital, minerals and markets. India can contribute by helping create an open network rather than another exclusive bloc.
As India marks eight decades of Independence, its strategic position has changed almost beyond recognition. Yet the central question of strategic autonomy remains. What India chooses to do with the strategic freedom it has built over eight decades may be the defining question of its next phase.
India has spent the past decade expanding its strategic choices — deepening ties with the US, Europe and Japan while maintaining important ties with Russia and strengthening engagement with the Gulf, Africa and Southeast Asia. Australia and New Zealand are also becoming increasingly important partners in the wider Indo-Pacific. At the same time, India has sought a larger voice for the developing world in international institutions. Strategic autonomy has traditionally been understood in diplomatic terms: the ability to maintain freedom of action without being drawn into competing power blocs. In an increasingly interconnected world, however, that freedom will depend just as much on economic choices.
The objective should be strategic interdependence — building sufficiently diverse relationships that dependence on any one country or economic system does not become a vulnerability. India is unusually well placed to pursue this. Its geography connects the Gulf and wider West Asia, the manufacturing economies of Asia, Africa across the Indian Ocean and the Eurasian space extending through Russia. The opportunity, therefore, is to become a connector between economies increasingly fragmented by geopolitical competition.
India’s relationship with Japan is extending into advanced manufacturing, technology, energy, semiconductors and critical minerals. Its engagement with the US is deepening across technology, investment, advanced manufacturing, energy and strategic cooperation, while its engagement with Europe is becoming increasingly economic and technological. Its relationships with the Gulf are expanding beyond energy into investment and connectivity. Australia and New Zealand add an important southern dimension to its wider Indo-Pacific engagement, while Southeast Asia provides pathways into wider Asian production networks.
Russia remains an important part of this equation. India’s continuing engagement with Moscow, alongside its deepening relationships with Washington, Tokyo, Europe and the Gulf, demonstrates that strategic autonomy gives India the flexibility to maintain important relationships across geopolitical divides.
China inevitably occupies a special place in this landscape. India’s answer cannot be either excessive dependence or complete separation. It will require strengthening domestic capabilities, diversifying supply chains and building partnerships elsewhere, while retaining space for engagement where interests permit.
India possesses another asset that few countries can match: a large, globally active and influential diaspora. Yet the diaspora can also present challenges, as political currents within these communities do not always align with India’s interests and can occasionally create sensitivities in its relations with host countries. The greater opportunity lies in nurturing the economic, intellectual and cultural connections the diaspora can create, while respecting its diversity and independence. In the emerging global economy, countries will increasingly seek multiple sources of energy, technology, capital, minerals and markets. India can contribute by helping create an open network rather than another exclusive bloc.
Ports, shipping routes, energy corridors, digital infrastructure, supply chains and trade agreements increasingly shape strategic influence. India’s challenge is to bring these strands together without turning them into a closed sphere of influence.
India’s economic rise will be more sustainable if other countries see themselves as participants in its growth rather than simply as markets for it. The value for India lies in making these relationships complementary rather than choosing among them. India’s leadership of the Global South can now move beyond representation in international forums towards creating an international economic environment in which developing countries have greater choices. India’s own experience is relevant here. It has moved from a relatively closed economic model towards deeper global integration while retaining a strong emphasis on domestic capability. The lesson is that openness and strategic autonomy need not be contradictory.
As the G20 meets again in Miami in December, India can continue to argue that the Global South should not merely seek greater representation within existing institutions, but a greater stake in shaping the economic networks and institutions of the future. An economically integrated Indian Ocean could allow countries such as Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and the Maldives to participate more deeply in regional supply chains, logistics, energy, tourism, technology and services. Influence based on shared prosperity is more durable influence based on dependence. India’s strategic opportunity, therefore, lies in becoming one of the principal connectors of a changing world.
(Milinda Moragoda is founder of the Pathfinder Foundation, strategic affairs think tank, and can be contacted via email @milinda.org.)
Courtesy Hindustan Times
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