Midweek Review

Notes towards a politics and aesthetics of film:

Published

3 years ago

2023/02/1

Sahan Weerasooriya

‘Face Cover’ by Ashfaque Mohamed

“Black cat, at the tip of my fingers pulsates poetry,

Desiring hands, yours, nudgingly pluck those roses of mine

In the soft light of the moon

The dreams we picked from the foaming edges of waves of the sea.”

Jusla/Salani (in Face Cover)

by Laleen Jayamanne

Asifa, a young girl, and her elderly mother, living in Kattankudy, Baticaloa, are two fictional characters at the centre of Ashfaque Mohamed’s quietly powerful first feature film, titled Face Cover, which just premiered at the 2023 Jaffna International Film Festival (JIFF). As the President of the international jury judging the films in this year’s debut film competition at the JIFF (but on zoom from Australia), I have seen some highly sophisticated films from Bangladesh and India (the winners), immensely enjoyable and informative, but have chosen, for the purposes of this article, to write on Ashfaque’s thought provoking film that didn’t make it into the debut film competition. My decision to do so is part of my own politics as a film scholar who has, over the decades, often highlighted and laboured over films that may not necessarily be popular, or current, or even easily understood, for that matter. Eye-catching films often are popular, and many critics spend a lot of energy writing about them as is their prerogative. I, too, do that when moved, as I have been by Baz Luhrmann’s hugely popular ELVIS. But, it’s important to me, as a Lankan-Australian film critic/scholar, to focus also on work that at first may appear opaque, may not fit into my own limited viewing habits and preferences, first and foremost. This way, I learn to learn from film even as I grow old. Face Cover has uncovered for me micro-histories of ethnic relations in Lanka in astonishing and moving ways. It’s certainly a film for our times, and in my opinion, Ashfaque is a young Lankan filmmaker of great promise. It is also heartening to note that he is cine-literate and (as he says), is self-taught as a filmmaker.

While the opening and closing screenings of the festival were at the Cinemas Movie Theatre, the rest of the festival films were shown at the University of Jaffna, largely due to the ongoing grave financial crisis affecting the country as a whole. I gather it’s the only film festival held in Sri Lanka, continuously, since the civil war ended, after 30 years, and is an admirable institution, powered by its Director, and curator of film, Anoma Rajakaruna’s unceasing energy and vision, which builds bridges among the various ethnic groups and cinephiles from across the entire country and crucially South Asia and further afield, in that once war-ravaged city. The following is the film’s blurb.

“Taking the cataclysmic Easter Sunday Bombings of Churches and Hotels in April 2019, by ISIS inspired Islamists in Sri Lanka as the point of departure, the film follows the life of Asifa in Kattankdy, in Eastern Sri Lanka, as she navigates the complex social forces shaping her and other women’s stories. The film tells the story of the town, as a woman’s tale. The film is experimental in form and mixes genres and conventions.”

*****

The main fictional story line of the mother and daughter is interwoven with (what appears at first to be), documentary interviews and testimonies given by ‘real’ people, not fictional characters. However, towards the end of the film one realises that the demarcating lines between documentary and fiction have indeed been blurred. There are hints of this earlier, in the four scenes forming the large sequence ‘performed’ on a proscenium stage, as well. This blurring appears to be the result of an unusual aesthetic and political decision, which I wish to explore here. Perhaps the politics of the film are linked to this bleeding of the actual into the fictional and the reverse also. How does this device enable Face Cover to uncover subtle operations of power in a predominantly Muslim area of Lanka, in the post-war era, soon after the Easter Sunday bombings as well? The feminist slogan, ‘the personal is political,’ certainly gets elaborated quietly but quite decisively in exploring the agency of the young Muslim girl, Asifa, on the cusp of womanhood, as well. I am assuming here (as I think the film itself does), that a politics of cinema has to work on two fronts simultaneously, not only on the choice of subject/story, but also on HOW it is told, elaborated. For what’s at stake are, our powers of perception and understanding, through images and sounds, that touch us in unexpected ways. Film, I believe, can be our mentor, we can learn from film in the most enjoyable and unexpected of ways, to undo our prejudiced ways of seeing, hearing, feeling and thinking. Face Cover continues to be a revelation to me in this regard, even after multiple viewings, especially so.

Face Cover

Ashfaque Mohamed

, the title of Ashafque’s film, is in itself fascinating. Why didn’t he use the globalised Arabic word Niqab for instance? The words ‘Face Cover’ (I learn), are the same in Tamil, the English words simply transliterated and incorporated into the vernacular. It is commonly used by Muslims to refer to the practice of partially covering a woman’s face, as required by some Muslim norms. A Tamil friend suggested that it connotes both the intimacy of a piece of cloth and a sense of distance of appropriated foreign words. Perhaps this sense of ambivalence is a unique Lankan invention not perceptible in the pure Arabic official word for the practice, which is Niqab. What’s fascinating to me is that, before I saw the film and learnt about the connotations of the title Face Cover, I thought it would be a ‘hot’, topical film on a subject that has caused a great deal of debate in the West (France for example), and protests, most recently in Iran which turned violent and then garnered supporters in some Western countries especially among some feminists. It’s a topic that the Western white media finds especially irresistible. But I was mistaken to take the title Face Cover at face value, as a sign of a polemical film. And what was most surprising to me about the film was that I wrote a long email to a friend, soon after I saw the film for the first time and realised the next day that I had said absolutely nothing about the ‘problem’ of the face cover, despite having discussed the film at some length.

When I realised what I had done, I resaw the film which brought up a lot of questions but no answers, so I saw the film yet again for the third time. This time round the film began to slowly open up to my attention. It is a film, I realised, that requires a quiet focus, an attentiveness, as when one enters an unfamiliar social milieu, like when one takes one’s shoes off to go into certain places of worship in Lanka, or as it happens to some houses in Australia. Similarly, while music is used, it does so very sparingly, so that when we do hear it, it speaks in a way that wall to wall music does not, cannot. In these ways our quality of attention is tuned like a musical instrument. In fact, the only time the face cover became a ‘hot topic’ in the film was when a Sinhala trader, in a shop, makes it so by shouting at a young woman wearing a face cover. He aggressively asks her why she has her face covered and the young girl responds forcefully, asking why he wants to see her face, etc. Apart from this verbal stoush, (the only time Sinhala is heard in the film), and one re-enactment on a stage, of an Army check-point scene, from the civil-war era, the face cover itself is not conceived as a ‘problem’ to be addressed by the film. In the staged check-point scene, a soldier, carrying a gun, orders a young woman, in Tamil, to unmask at the point of his gun and she simply obeys the command. The soldier is meant to be Sinhala speaking an accented Tamil. So apart from these two ‘dramatic’ incidents, instigated by hostile people with authority and power, the face cover is not a focus of the film, it’s simply a given. Though there is a strong criticism of the Muslim male undergraduate practice of erasing the faces of female office bearers on student council photographs, at several Universities. A young Muslim woman astutely refers to this gender discrimination as a ‘digital veiling,’ images of which are displayed. This kind of internal criticism is very forceful and one hopes that Muslim male undergraduates will reflect on it and mend their ways. The check-point scene does function as a parable. More on the use of dramatic parables later, in a film where there is very little ‘drama’ in this sense of confrontations. Instead, momentous events transpire on Television News of the Easter Sunday bombings which frames the film and dates it to be set in 2019. But previous violent histories are folded into every-day-life and narrated as recollections, and an inventive mix of techniques of staged interviews and testimonies and ‘real’ interviews, replace drama, understood as actions and reactions reaching a crescendo.

Sumathy Sivamohan as Asifa’s mother

Often the interviews are played as voice-over while the person concerned goes about her every-day business, mute. This technique makes the film’s narration flexible, allowing room to play with our attention, an eye here and the ear there. I think that Ashfaque’s ethico-aesthetic sensibility evident here is a part of his film politics. I find myself listening attentively to the voice-over which rhetorically oscillates between answers to questions (which are themselves unheard), and an interior monologue. I found the texture, timbre, inflections and rhythms of the voices, especially those of the mother and daughter, very engaging, moving. Lankan cinema has not developed the autonomous potentialities of the sound track as much as it could, I think.

Face Cover

as a Lure

I was a bit slow to realise that the title, Face Cover, is a lure. It lures us into the film as a certain idea of the veil might. The veil is an alluring metaphysical idea in Kumar Shahani’s film Khyal Gatha for instance, which explores both Hindu Bhakti and Sufi Islamic traditions of spirituality as expressed in music, song and art in India which bypass both the priest and the religious institutions they control. ‘Khayal’ is an Urdu word derived from Persian which means ‘imagination,’ and is the name of a classical musical form. The idea of the ‘veil’ in Persian Sufi traditions is a complex idea, put very simply, it suggests that, reality itself is veiled (filtered, subtilised), and its perception depends on certain spiritual aesthetic practices, which reveal the imperceptible and the intangible, within the hum-drum of every-day existence. The veil as a spiritual idea, on the one hand, and the mask or ‘face cover’ socially mandated by certain Islamic patriarchal assumptions, on the other, are of course worlds apart in their conception and function and the feelings they evoke. As devout Roman Catholic girls, taught religion by Irish Catholic nuns at school, we always had to cover our heads modestly with veils when going to church.

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Midweek Review

Dr. Jaishankar drags H’tota port to reverberating IRIS Dena affair

Published

2 days ago

2026/03/11

Sahan Weerasooriya

Sri Lanka reached an agreement with China to build the Hambantota port after India declined the then President Mahinda Rajapaksa’s request to take charge of the high profile project. The Indian decision may have been influenced by the war raging in the northern region at that time.

Indian Foreign Minister Dr. S. Jaishankar recognised Hambantota harbour as a Chinese military facility that underlined intimidating foreign military presence in the Indian Ocean. Jaishankar was responding to queries regarding India’s widely mentioned status as the region’s net security provider against the backdrop of a US submarine blowing up an Iranian frigate IRIS Dena, off Galle, within Sri Lanka’s Exclusive Economic Zone.

This happened at the Raisina Dialogue 2026 (March 5 to 7) in New Delhi. Raisina Dialogue was launched in 2016, three years after Narendra Modi became the Prime Minister.

The query obviously rattled the Indian Foreign Minister. Urging the moderator, Ms. Pakli Sharma Ipadhyay, to understand, what he called, the reality of the Indian Ocean, Dr. Jaishankar pointed out the joint US-British presence at Diego Garcia over the past five decades. Then he referred to the Chinese presence at Djibouti in East Africa, the first overseas Chinese military base, established in 2017, and Chinese takeover of Hambantota port, also during the same time. China secured the strategically located port on a 99-year lease for USD 1.2 bn, under controversial circumstances. China succeeded in spite of Indian efforts to halt Chinese projects here, including Colombo port city.

The submarine involved is widely believed to be Virginia-class USS Minnesota. The crew, included three Australian Navy personnel, according to international news agencies. However, others named the US Navy fast-attack submarine, involved in the incident, as USS Charlotte.

Diego Garcia is responsible for military operations in the Middle East, Africa and the Indo-Pacific. Dr. Jaishankar didn’t acknowledge that India, a key US ally and member of the Quad alliance, operated P8A maritime patrol and reconnaissance flights out of Diego Garcia last October. The US-India-Israel relationship is growing along with the US-Sri Lanka partnership.

The Indian Foreign Minister emphasised the deployment of the US Fifth Fleet in Bahrain, one of the countries that had been attacked by Iran, following the US-Israeli assassination of Iranian Supreme Leader, and key government functionaries, in a massive surprise attack, aiming at a regime change there. The Indian Minister briefly explained how they and Sri Lanka addressed the threat on three Indian navy vessels following the unprovoked US-Israeli attacks on Iran. Whatever the excuses, the undeniable truth is, as Sharma pointed out, that the US attack on the Iranian frigate took place in India’s backyard.

Sri Lankan Foreign Minister Vijitha Herath who faced Sharma before Dr. Jaishankar, struggled to explain the country’s position. Dr. Jaishankar made the audience laugh at Minister Herath’s expense who repeatedly said that Sri Lanka would deal with the situation in terms of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) and international laws. Herath should have pointed out that Hambantota was not a military base and couldn’t be compared, under any circumstances, with the Chinese base in Djibouti.

Typical of the arrogant Western power dynamics, the US never cared for international laws and President Donald Trump quite clearly stated their position.

Israel is on record as having declared that the decision to launch attacks on Iran had been made months ago. Therefore, the sinking of the fully domestically built vessel that was launched in 2021 should be examined in the context of overall US-Israeli strategy meant to break the back of the incumbent Islamic revolutionary government and replace it with a pro-Western regime there as had been the case after the toppling of the democratically elected government there, led by Prime Minister Mossadegh, in August, 1953.

US Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth declared that IRIS Dena “thought it was safe in international waters’ but died a quiet death.” A US submarine torpedoed the vessel on the morning of March 4, off Galle, within Sri Lanka’s exclusive economic zone and that decision must have been made before the IRIS Dena joined International Fleet Review (IFR) and Exercise Milan 2026, at Visakhapatnam, from February 15 to 25.

The sinking of the Iranian vessel, a Moudge –class frigate attached to Iran’s southern fleet deployed in the Gulf of Oman and Strait of Hormuz, had been calculated to cause mayhem in the Indian Ocean. Obviously, and pathetically, Iran failed to comprehend the US-Israeli mindset after having already been fooled with devastating attacks, jointly launched by Washington and Tel Aviv against the country’s nuclear research facilities, while holding talks with it on the issue last June. Had they comprehended the situation they probably would have pulled out of the IFR and Milan 2026. Perhaps, Iran was lulled into a false sense of security because they felt the US wouldn’t hit ships invited by India. The US Navy did not participate though the US Air Force did.

The US action dramatically boosted Raisina Dialogue 2026, but at India’s expense. Prime Minister Modi’s two-day visit to Tel Aviv, just before the US-Israel launched the war to effect a regime change in Teheran, made the situation far worse. BJP seems to have decided on whose side India is on. But, the US action has, invariably, humiliated India. That cannot be denied. The Indian Navy posted a cheery message on X on February 17, the day before President Droupadi Murmu presided over IFR off the Visakhapatnam coast. “Welcome!” the Indian Navy wrote, greeting the Iranian warship IRIS Dena as it steamed into the port of Visakhapatnam to join an international naval gathering. Photographs showed Iranian sailors and a grey frigate gliding into the Indian harbour on a clear day. The hashtags spoke of “Bridges of Friendship” and “United Through Oceans.”

US alert

Dr. Jaishankar

Altogether, three Iranian vessels participated in IFR. In addition to the ill-fated IRIS Dena, the second frigate IRIS Lavan and auxiliary ships IRIS Bushehr comprised the group. Dr. Jaishankar disclosed at the Raisina Dialogue 2026 that Iran requested India to allow IRIS Lavan to enter Indian waters. India accommodated the vessel at Cochin Port (Kochi Port) on the Arabian Sea in Kerala.

At the time US torpedoed IRIS Dena, within Sri Lanka’s EEZ, IRIS Lavan was at Cochin port. Sri Lanka’s territorial waters extend 12 nautical miles (approximately 22 km) from the country’s coastline. The US hit the vessel 19 nautical miles off southern coastline.

Sri Lanka, too, participated in IFR and Milan 2026. SLN Sagara (formerly Varaha), a Vikram-class offshore patrol vessel of the Indian Coast Guard and SLN Nandimithra, A Fast Missile Vessel, acquired from Israel, participated and returned to Colombo on February 27, the day before IRIS Lavan sought protection in Indian waters.

Although many believed that Sri Lanka responded to the attack on IRIS Dena, following a distressed call from that ship, the truth is it was the Indo-Pacific Command (INDOPACOM) that alerted the Maritime Rescue Coordination centre (MRCC) after blowing it up with a single torpedo. The SLN’s Southern Command dispatched three Fast Attack Craft (FACs) while a tug from Sri Lanka Ports Authority (SLPA) joined later.

The INDOPACOM, while denying the Iranian claim that IRIS Dena had been unarmed at the time of the attack, emphasised: “US forces planned for and Sri Lanka provided life-saving support to survivors in accordance with the Law of Armed Conflict.” In the post shared on X (formerly Twitter) the US has, in no uncertain terms, said that they planned for the rescuing of survivors and the action was carried out by the Sri Lanka Navy.

IRIS Lavan and IRIS Bushehr are most likely to be held in Cochin and in Trincomalee ports, respectively, for some time with the crews accommodated on land. With the US-Israel combine vowing to go the whole hog there is no likelihood of either India or Sri Lanka allowing the ships to leave.

Much to the embarrassment of the Modi administration, former Indian Foreign Secretary Kanwal Sibal has said that IRIS Dena would not have been targeted if Iran was not invited to take part in IFR and Milan naval exercise.

“We were the hosts. As per protocol for this exercise, ships cannot carry any ammunition. It was defenseless. The Iranian naval personnel had paraded before our president,” he said in a post on X.

Sibal argued that the attack was premeditated, pointing out that the US Navy had been invited to the exercise but withdrew at the last minute, “presumably with this operation in mind.”

Sibal added that the US ignored India’s sensitivities, as the Iranian ship was present in the waters due to India’s invitation.

He stressed that India was neither politically nor militarily responsible for the US attack, but carried a moral and humanitarian responsibility.

“A word of condolence by the Indian Navy (after political clearance) at the loss of lives of those who were our invitees and saluted our president would be in order,” Sibal said.

Iran and even India appeared to have ignored the significance of USN pullout from IFR and Milan exercise at the eleventh hour. India and Sri Lanka caught up in US-Israeli strategy are facing embarrassing questions from the political opposition. Both Congress and Samagi Jana Balwegaya (SJB), as well as Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna (SLPP), exploited the situation to undermine respective governments over an unexpected situation created by the US. Both India and Sri Lanka ended up playing an unprecedented role in the post-Milan 2026 developments that may have a lasting impact on their relations with Iran.

The regional power India and Sri Lanka also conveniently failed to condemn the February 28 assassination of Iranian Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, while that country was holding talks with the US, with Oman serving as the mediator.

Condemning the unilateral attack on Iran, as well as the retaliatory strikes by Iran, Leader of the Opposition in the Lok Sabha and Congress leader Rahul Gandhi on Tuesday (March 3, 2026) questioned India’s silence on the Middle East developments.

In a post on social media platform X, Gandhi said Prime Minister Narendra Modi must speak up. “Does he support the assassination of a Head of State as a way to define the world order? Silence now diminishes India’s standing in the world,” he said.

Under heavy Opposition fire, India condoled the Iranian leader’s assassination on March 5, almost a week after the killing. Foreign Secretary Vikram Misri met the Iran Ambassador in Delhi and signed the condolence book, though much belatedly.

SL-US relations

The Opposition questioned the NPP government’s handling of the IRIS Dena affair. They quite conveniently forgot that any other government wouldn’t have been able to do anything differently than bow to the will of the US. Under President Trump, Washington has been behaving recklessly, even towards its longtime friends, demanding that Canada become its 51st state and that Denmark handover Greenland pronto.

SJB and Opposition leader Sajith Premadasa cut a sorry figure demanding in Parliament whether Sri Lanka had the capacity to detect submarines or other underwater systems. Sri Lanka should be happy that the Southern Command could swiftly deploy three FACs and call in SLPA tug, thereby saving the lives of 32 Iranians and recovering 84 bodies of their unfortunate colleagues. Therefore, of the 180-member crew of IRIS Dena, 116 had been accounted for. The number of personnel categorised as missing but presumably dead is 64.

There is no doubt that Sri Lanka couldn’t have intervened if not for the US signal to go ahead with the humanitarian operation to pick up survivors. India, too, must have informed the US about the Iranian request for IRIS Lavan to re-enter Indian waters. Sri Lanka, too, couldn’t have brought the Iranian auxiliary vessel without US consent. President Trump is not interested in diplomatic niceties and the way he had dealt with European countries repeatedly proved his reckless approach. The irrefutable truth is that the US could have torpedoed the entire Iranian group even if they were in Sri Lankan or Indian Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ) that extends to 200 nautical miles from its coastline.

In spite of constantly repeating Sri Lanka’s neutrality, successive governments succumbed to US pressure. In March 2007, Mahinda Rajapaksa’s government entered into Acquisition and Cross- Servicing Agreement (ACSA) with the US, a high profile bilateral legal mechanism to ensure uninterrupted support/supplies. The Rajapaksas went ahead with ACSA, in spite of strong opposition from some of its partners. In fact, they did not even bother to ask or take up the issue at Cabinet level before the then Defence Secretary Gotabaya Rajapaksa, a US citizen at the time, and US Ambassador here Robert O. Blake signed it. Close on the heels of the ACSA signing, the US provided specific intelligence that allowed the Sri Lanka Navy to hunt down four floating LTTE arsenals. Whatever critics say, that US intervention ensured the total disruption of the LTTE supply line and the collapse of their conventional fighting capacity by March 2009. The US favourably responded to the then Vice Admiral Wasantha Karannagoda’s request for help and the passing of intelligence was not in any way in line with ACSA.

That agreement covered the 2007 to 2017 period. The Yahapalana government extended it. Yahapalana partners, the SLFP and UNP, never formally discussed the decision to extend the agreement though President Maithripala Sirisena made a desperate attempt to distance himself from ACSA.

It would be pertinent to mention that the US had been pushing for ACSA during Rail Wickremesinghe’s tenure as the Premier, in the 2001-2003 period. But, he lacked the strength to finalise that agreement due to strong opposition from the then Opposition. During the time the Yahapalana government extended ACSA, the US also wanted the Status of Forces Agreement (SOFA) signed. SOFA, unlike ACSA, is a legally binding agreement that dealt with the deployment of US forces here. However, SOFA did not materialise but the possibility of the superpower taking it up cannot be ruled out.

Gotabaya Rajapaksa, who won the 2019 presidential election, earned the wrath of the US for declining to finalise MCC (Millennium Challenge Corporation) Compact on the basis of Prof. Gunaruwan Committee report that warned that the agreement contained provisions detrimental to national security, sovereignty, and the legal system. In the run up to the presidential election, UNP leader Ranil Wickremesinghe declared that he would enter into the agreement in case Sajith Premadasa won the contest.

Post-Aragalaya setup

Since the last presidential election held in September 2024, Admiral Steve Koehler, a four-star US Navy Admiral and Commander of the US Pacific Fleet visited Colombo twice in early October 2024 and February this year. Koehler’s visits marked the highest-level U.S. military engagement with Sri Lanka since 2021.

Between Koehler’s visits, the United States and Sri Lanka signed a Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) formalising the defence partnership between the Montana National Guard, the US Coast Guard District 13, and the Sri Lanka Armed Forces under the Department of War’s State Partnership Programme (SPP). The JVP-led NPP government seems sure of its policy as it delayed taking a decision on one-year moratorium on all foreign research vessels entering Sri Lankan waters though it was designed to block Chinese vessels. The government is yet to announce its decision though the ban lapsed on December 31, 2024.

The then President Ranil Wickremesinghe was compelled to announce the ban due to intense US-Indian pressure.

The incumbent dispensation’s relationship with US and India should be examined against allegations that they facilitated ‘Aragalaya’ that forced President Gotabaya Rajapaksa out of office. The Trump administration underscored the importance of its relationship with Sri Lanka by handing over ex-US Coast Guard Cutter ‘Decisive ‘to the Sri Lanka Navy. The vessel, commanded by Captain Gayan Wickramasooriya, left Baltimore US Coast Guard Yard East Wall Jetty on February 23 and is expected to reach Trincomalee in the second week of May.

Last year Sri Lanka signed seven MoUs, including one on defence and then sold controlling shares of the Colombo Dockyard Limited (CDL) to a company affiliated to the Defence Ministry as New Delhi tightened its grip.

Sri Lanka-US relations seemed on track and the IRIS Dena incident is unlikely to distract the two countries. The US continues to take extraordinary measures to facilitate war on Iran. In a bid to overcome the Iranian blockade on crude carriers the US temporarily eased sanctions to allow India to buy Russian oil.

Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent declared a 30-day waiver was a “deliberate short-term measure” to allow oil to keep flowing in the global market. The US sanctioned Russian oil following Moscow’s invasion of Ukraine, forcing buyers to seek alternatives.

The US doesn’t care about the Ukraine government that must be really upset about the unexpected development. India was forced to halt buying Russian oil and now finds itself in a position to turn towards Russia again. But that would be definitely at the expense of Iran facing unprecedented military onslaught.

By Shamindra Ferdinando

Midweek Review

A Living Legend of the Peradeniya Tradition:

Published

2 days ago

2026/03/11

Sahan Weerasooriya

Prof. H. L. Seneviratne

A Tribute to Professor H. L. Seneviratne – Part I

My earliest memories of the eminent anthropologist, Professor H. L. Seneviratne date back to my childhood, when I first encountered his name through the vivid accounts of campus life shared by my late brother, Sugathapala de Silva, then a lecturer in the Department of Sinhala at the University of Peradeniya. By the time I became a first-year sociology student in 1968/69, I had the privilege of being taught by the Professor, whose guidance truly paved the way for my own progression in sociology and anthropology. Even then, it was clear that he was a towering presence—not just as an academician, but as a central figure in the lively cultural and literary renaissance that defined that era of the university’s intellectual history.

H.L. Seneviratne stood alongside a galaxy of intellectuals who shaped and developed the literary consciousness of the Peradeniya University. His professorial research made regular appearances in journals such as Sanskriti and Mimamsa, published Sinhala and English articles, and served as channels for the dissemination of the literary consciousness of Peradeniya to the population at large. These texts were living texts of a dynamic intellectual ferment where the synthesis of classical aesthetic sensibilities with current critical intellectual thought in contemporary Sri Lanka was under way.

The concept of a ‘Peradeniya tradition or culture’, a term which would later become legendary in Sri Lankan literary and intellectual circles, was already being formed at this time. Peradeniya culture came to represent a distinctive synthesis: cosmopolitanism entwined with well-rooted local customs, aesthetic innovation based on classical Sinhala styles, and critical interaction with modernity. Among its pre-eminent practitioners were intellectual giants such as Ediriweera Sarachchandra, Gunadasa Amarasekara, and Siri Gunasinghe. These figures and H.L. Seneviratne himself, were central to the shaping of a space of cultural and literary critique that ranged from newspapers to book-length works, public speeches to theatrical performance.

Unlimited influence

H.L. Seneviratne’s influence was not limited to the printed page, which I discuss in this article. He operated in and responded to the performative, interactive space of drama and music, situating lived artistic practice in his cultural thought. I recall with vividness the late 1950s, a period seared into my memory as one of revelation, when I as a child was fortunate enough to witness one of the first performances of Maname, the trailblazing Sinhala drama that revolutionised Sri Lankan theatre. Drawn from the Nadagam tradition and staged in the open-air theatre in Peradeniya—now known as Sarachchandra Elimahan Ranga Pitaya—or Wala as used by the campus students. Maname was not so much a play as a culturally transformative experience.

H.L. Seneviratne was not just an observer of this change. He joined the orchestra of Maname staged on November 3, 1956, lending his voice and presence to the collective heartbeat of the performance. He even contributed to the musical group by playing the esraj, a quiet but vital addition to the performance’s beauty and richness. Apart from these roles, he played an important part in the activities of Professor Sarathchandra’s Sinhala Drama Society, a talent nursery and centre for collaboration between artists and intellectuals. H.L. Seneviratne was a friend of Arthur Silva, a fellow resident of Arunachalam Hall then, and the President of the Drama Circle. H.L. Seneviratne had the good fortune to play a role, both as a member of the original cast, and an active member of the Drama Circle that prevailed on lecturer E.R. Sarathchandra to produce a play and gave him indispensable organizational support. It was through this society that Sarachchandra attracted some of the actors who brought into being Maname and later Sinhabhahu, plays which have become the cornerstone of Sri Lanka’s theatrical heritage.

The best chronicler of Maname

H.L. Seneviratne is the best chronicler of Maname. (Towards a National Art, From Home and the World, Essays in honour of Sarath Amunugama. Ramanika Unamboowe and Varuni Fernando (eds)). He chronicles the genesis of Ediriweera Sarachchandra’s seminal play Maname, framing it as a pivotal attempt to forge a sophisticated national identity by synthesizing indigenous folk traditions with Eastern theatrical aesthetics. Seneviratne details how Sarachchandra, disillusioned with the ‘artificiality’ of Western-influenced urban theatre and the limitations of both elite satires and rural folk plays, looked toward the Japanese Noh and Kabuki traditions to find a model for a ‘national’ art that could appeal across class divides. The author emphasises that the success of Maname was not merely a solo intellectual feat but a gruelling, collective effort involving a ‘gang of five’ academics and a dedicated cohort of rural, bilingual students from the University of Ceylon at Peradeniya. Through anecdotes regarding the discovery of lead actors like Edmund Wijesinghe and the assembly of a unique orchestra, Seneviratne highlights the logistical struggles—from finding authentic instruments to managing cumbersome stage sets—that ultimately birthed a transformative ‘oriental’ theatre rooted in the nadagama style yet refined for a modern, sophisticated audience.

Born in Sri Lanka in 1934, in a village in Horana, he was educated at the Horana Taxila College following which he was admitted to the Department of Sociology at the University of Peradeniya. H.L. Seneviratne’s academic journey subsequently led him to the University of Rochester for his doctoral studies. But, despite his long tenure in the United States, his research has remained firmly rooted in the soil of his homeland.

His early seminal work, Rituals of the Kandyan State, his PhD thesis turned into a book, offered a groundbreaking analysis of the Temple of the Tooth (Dalada Maligawa). By examining the ceremonies surrounding the sacred relic, H.L. Seneviratne demonstrated how religious performance served as the bedrock of political legitimacy in the Kandyan Kingdom. He argued that these rituals at the time of his fieldwork in the early 1970s were not static relics of the past, but active tools used to construct and maintain the authority of the state, the ideas that would resonate throughout his later career.

The Work of Kings

Perhaps, his most provocative contribution arrived with the publication of The Work of Kings published in 1999. In this sweeping study, H.L. Seneviratne traced the transformation of the Buddhist clergy, or Sangha, from the early 20th-century ‘social service’ monks, who focused on education and community upliftment, to the more politically charged nationalist figures of the modern era. He analysed the shift away from a universalist, humanistic Buddhism toward a more exclusionary identity, sparking intense debate within both academic and religious circles in Sri Lanka.

In The Work of Kings, H.L. Seneviratne has presented a sophisticated critique and argued that in the early 20th century, influenced by figures like Anagarika Dharmapala, there was a brief ‘monastic ideal’ centred on social service and education. This period saw monks acting as catalysts for community development and moral reform embodying a humanistic version of Buddhism that sought to modernize the country while maintaining its spiritual integrity.

However, H.L. Seneviratne contends that this situation was eventually derailed by the rise of post-independence nationalism. He describes a process where the clergy moved away from universalist goals to become the vanguard of a narrow ethno-religious identity. By aligning themselves so closely with the state and partisan politics, H.L. Seneviratne suggests that the Sangha inadvertently traded their moral authority for political influence. This shift, in his view, led to the ‘betrayal’ of the original social service movement, replacing a vision of broad social progress with one centred on political dominance.

The core of his critique lies in the disappearance of what he calls the ‘intellectual monk.’ He laments the decline of the scholarly, reflective tradition in favour of a more populist and often inflammatory rhetoric. By analysing the rhetoric of key monastic figures, H.L. Senevirathne illustrates how the language of Buddhism was repurposed to justify political ends, often at the expense of the pluralistic values that he believes are inherent to the faith’s core teachings.

H.L. Seneviratne’s work remains highly relevant today as it provides a framework for understanding contemporary religious tensions. His analysis serves as a warning about the consequences of merging religious institutional power with state politics. By documenting this historical shift, he challenges modern Sri Lankans—and global observers—to reconsider the role of religious institutions in a secular, democratic state, urging a return to the compassionate and socially inclusive roots of the Buddhist tradition.

Within the broader context of Sri Lankan anthropology, H.L. Seneviratne is frequently grouped with other towering figures of his generation, most notably Stanley Jeyaraja Tambiah and Gananath Obeyesekere. Together, this remarkable cohort revolutionized the study of Sri Lanka by applying structural and psychological analyses to religious and ethnic identity. While Tambiah famously interrogated the betrayal of non-violent Buddhist principles in the face of political violence, H.L. Seneviratne’s work is often seen as the essential sociological counterpart, providing the detailed historical and institutional narrative of how the monastic order itself was reshaped by these very forces.

Reation to Seneviratne’s critque

The reaction to H.L. Seneviratne’s critique has been as multifaceted as the work itself. In academic circles, particularly those influenced by post-colonial theory, he is celebrated for speaking truth in a public place. Scholars have noted that because he writes as an insider—both a Sinhalese and a Buddhist, that makes them both credible and, to some, highly objectionable. His work has paved the way for a younger generation of Sri Lankan sociologists and anthropologists to move beyond traditional functionalism towards more radical articulations of competing interests and political power.

However, his analysis has also made him a target for nationalist critics. Those aligned with ethno-religious movements often view his deconstruction of the Sangha’s political role as an attack on Sinhalese-Buddhist identity itself. These detractors argue that H.L. Seneviratne’s intellectualist or universalist view of Buddhism fails to account for the necessity of the clergy’s role in protecting the nation against neo colonial and modern pressures. This tension highlights the very descent into ideology that H.L. Seneviratne has spent his career documenting.

H.L. Seneviratne’s legacy is defined by this ongoing dialogue between scholarship and social reality. His transition from the detached scholar seen in his early work on Kandyan rituals to the socially concerned intellectual of The Work of Kings mirrors the very transformation of the Sangha and Buddha Sasana he studied. By refusing to look away from the complexities of the present, he has ensured that his work remains a cornerstone for any serious discussion on the future of religion and governance in Sri Lanka.

Focus on good governance

In his later years, H.L. Seneviratne has pivoted his focus toward the practical application of his theories, specifically examining how the concept of ‘Good Governance’ interacts with traditional religious structures. He argues that for Sri Lanka to achieve true stability, there must be a fundamental reimagining of the Sangha’s role in the public sphere—one that moves away from the ‘work of Kings’ and returns to a more ethical, advisory capacity. This shift in his recent lectures reflects a deep concern about the erosion of democratic institutions and the way religious sentiment can be harnessed to bypass the rule of law.

Building on this, contemporary scholars like Benjamin Schonthal have expanded H.L. Seneviratne’s inquiry into the legal and constitutional dimensions of Buddhism in Sri Lanka. While H.L. Seneviratne provided the anthropological groundwork for how monks gained political power, this newer generation of academics examines how that power has been codified into the very laws of the state. They explore the ‘path dependency’ created by the historical shifts H.L. Seneviratne documented, looking at how the legal privileging of Buddhism creates unique challenges for a pluralistic society.

New Sangha

Furthermore, his influence is visible in the work of local scholars who focus on ‘engaged Buddhism.’ These researchers look back at H.L. Seneviratne’s description of the early 20th-century social service monks as a blueprint for modern reform. By identifying the moment where the clergy’s mission shifted from social welfare to political nationalism, these scholars use H.L. Seneviratne’s historical milestones to advocate a ‘New Sangha’ that prioritizes reconciliation and inter-ethnic harmony over state-aligned power.

The enduring power of H.L. Seneviratne’s work lies in its refusal to offer easy answers. By mapping the transition within Buddhist practice from ritual to politics, and from social service to nationalism, he has provided an analytical framework in which the nation can see its own transformation. His legacy is not just a collection of books, but a persistent, rigorous habit of questioning that continues to inspire those who seek to understand the delicate balance between faith and the modern state.

H.L. Seneviratne continues to challenge his audience to think beyond the immediate political moment. By documenting the arc of Sri Lankan history from the sacred rituals of the Kandyan kings to the modern halls of parliament, he provides a vital sense of perspective. Whether he is being celebrated by the academic community or critiqued by nationalist voices, his work ensures that the conversation regarding the soul of the nation remains rigorous, historically grounded, and unafraid of its own complexities.

Anthropology and cinema

H.L. Seneviratne identifies the mid-1950s as the critical turning point for this cinematic shift, specifically anchoring the move to 1956 with the release of Lester James Peries’s “Rekava.” This period was a watershed moment in Sri Lankan history, coinciding with a broader nationalist resurgence that sought to reclaim a localized identity from the influence of colonial and foreign powers. H.L. Seneviratne suggests that before this era, the ‘South Indian formula’ dominated the screen, characterized by studio-bound sets, theatrical acting, and musical interludes that felt alien to the island’s actual social fabric. The pioneers of this movement, led by Lester James Peries and later followed by figures like Siri Gunasinghe in the early 1960s, deliberately moved the camera into the open air of the rural village to capture what H.L. Seneviratne describes as the ‘authentic rhythms’ of life. This transition was not merely aesthetic but deeply ideological; it replaced the mythical, exaggerated heroism of commercial cinema with a nuanced exploration of the post-colonial middle class and the crumbling feudal hierarchies. By the 1960s, through landmark works like ‘Gamperaliya,’ these filmmakers were successfully crafting a modern mythology that reflected the internal psychological tensions and the social evolution of a nation navigating its way between traditional Buddhist values and a rapidly modernizing world.

His critique of the relationship between art and the state is particularly evident in his analysis of historical epics, where he has argued that certain cinematic portrayals of ancient kings and battles serve as a form of ‘visual nationalism,’ translating the ideological shifts he documented in The Work of Kings onto the silver screen. By analysing these films, he shows how popular culture can become a powerful tool for constructing a simplified, heroic past that often ignores the multi-ethnic and pluralistic realities of the island’s history.

(To be concluded)

by Professor M. W. Amarasiri de Silva