Features
A Sociology and Historiography of Buddhism: Some Reflections on Vesak
By Uditha Devapriya
By the 6th century BC, the centre of Indian civilisation had shifted to the Ganges Valley. Social and economic conditions had made possible the rise of several religions which posed as alternatives to Brahmanism. By the end of the 5th century BC, the number of these sects had come down. Among those that survived were Jainism and Buddhism.
The Gangetic Basin soon became the centre of the second urbanisation of ancient India, following the Indus Valley phase from 3300 to 1800 BC. This second urbanisation unfolded in two stages, the first going back to the 6th to 5th century BC and the second to the last few centuries of the first millennium BC. By the 7th century, before the rise of cities in the region, 16 small states had sprung up, bordering the Ganges Valley.
Alexander Cunningham, founder of the Archaeological Survey of India, retraced the route taken by the Chinese pilgrims Fa-Hsien and Xuanzang to the sites of several of these cities, including Mathura, Ahicchatra, Sankisa, Kanauj, Kausambi, Ayodhya, Sravasti, Kusinagara, Varanasi, Vaisali, Pataliputra, Bodhgaya, Rajagaha, Nalanda, Champa, and Tamralipti.
Within 150 years, these small “republics” or janapadas would decrease to four, while within the next two centuries they would collapse into one empire, Magadha. Bimbisara and Ajasattu, its most illustrious rulers, were among the most influential patrons of the Buddha, who spent much of his life there; the language he used was, after all, Maghadi Prakrit.
The story of Buddhism and its rise is therefore, at one level, the story of the economic and social changes unravelling throughout India. In the Mauryan Empire, Indian civilisation faced its first “universal monarchy”, while arguably its greatest king Asoka would adopt Buddhism as the state religion in the aftermath of a bloody, violent war.
Jean Darian notes that the rise of Buddhism emerged from two historical trends: the withering away of tribal republics and the formation of kingdoms, and the rise of a merchant class which was more conducive to the growth of empires than a priestly class/caste.
Buddhism hence did not emerge in a vacuum: there were conditions that stimulated its rise over not just those priestly sects but sects which, while sharing some of its key tenets, nevertheless emphasised a more ascetic and extreme lifestyle.
Indeed, Siddhartha Gautama’s first two teachers, Alara Kalama and Uddaka Ramaputta, were followers of these creeds: under Alara Kalama he attained the “Realm of Nothingness” (Akincannayatana), and under Uddaka Ramaputta he attained the “Realm of Neither Perception nor Non-Perception” (Neva Sanna Nasannayatana).
How did urbanisation come about, and what influence did it exert on Buddhism, a religion which in Sri Lanka finds its truest expression, as eminent writers like Martin Wickramasinghe and Gunadasa Amarasekara have observed, in the village?
The transition from the Indus Valley to the Ganges was accompanied and even driven by the emergence of a Vedic culture, the product of a semi-nomadic people who called themselves Arya, which European scholars, including William Jones and Max Muller, anachronistically linked to European culture. We know a lot from literary sources and at the same time so little from actual inscriptions about the nature and the character of these people.
The little we do know is that in their hands, the Ganges Valley, which Brahmanical and Buddhist texts referred to as the Majjhimadesaya or the Middle Kingdom, transformed from a fertile agricultural enclave to a highly developed civilisation. The valley was the site of a stratified society, which was divided into castes and occupational groups; its transformation into a highly urban civilisation compelled a breakdown in the traditional rural order.
Buddhists texts attest to the commercialisation of life in the 5th century BC. The Jataka stories tell us of a “flourishing urban society” in North India. This spurt of commercialisation centred on Rajagaha, the capital of Magadha. A steady rise in the number of people in urban settlements there led to the rise of an urban consciousness and the formation of towns, markets, and trade guilds, including of woodworkers, ironworkers, leatherworkers, and painters.
The Magadha period saw much development in mercantile practices and skills, in the trade and transport of items such as silk, jewellery, and armour, and of a special ceramic called the Northern Black Polish Ware, which made its first appearance in 500 BC in the Ganges valley. D. D. Kosambi puts all this against the backdrop of Buddhism’s ascent:
“The 1,500 years of the full cycle of the rise, spread, and decline of Buddhism saw India change over from semi-pastoral tribal life to the first absolute monarchies and then to feudalism.”
It was under these monarchies that the faintest outlines of a market economy emerged for the first time in India. The rule of these monarchs was linked inextricably to the rise of a merchant class, among which were the famed sresthi, the financiers. These merchants contributed to the undercutting of the caste system. No longer tied to the land like their ancestors, they forwent on their allegiance to the rigid texts of the Vedas.
Not surprisingly, injunctions against and condemnations of city life run through traditional religious texts: cities are described as places “where the Vedas are not recited”, and householders completing their studies are warned against “spending too much time in the city”, since urban dwellers “cannot attain salvation, despite their austerities.”
The rulers, on the other hand, found in merchants a ready means of accumulating capital for large public works, which Marx and Engels noted as the distinguishing mark of Indian (and Asiatic) civilisation. To sustain this, they needed to free capital from the upper castes. At the same time, they required a polity, and a religious doctrine, which would discourage too much wealth accumulation, especially “in the hands of potentially rival groups.”
Buddhism was one among many creeds that witnessed this spate of urbanisation, but it was the most adaptable to these changes. It evolved from a long trajectory. The religious revolutions of the Gangetic Basin, which is where many of India’s religions evolved, can be traced to Ajita Kesakambali, a materialist philosopher who, in contrast to the Brahmins and the Vedas, believed that the body turned to dust and nothing else upon death.
This evolved into still other sects. Of these, the Samkhyians were among the first to propound that the soul was distinguishable from the body. Alara Kalama was a follower of this creed. The Jains under Mahaviraswami adhered to a rigid ideology which forbade drinking “without straining or filtering” and in-breathing, since they could kill life-forms in water and in the air. Uddaka Ramaputta is considered to have been a Jain.
The achievement of Buddhism was its avoidance of both materialism and asceticism. The Middle Way, the “Majjhimapatipadawa”, suited a civilisation rooted in trade practices liberated from caste constraints on the one hand, and in a clergy and lay following which believed in staying away from accumulating too much wealth on the other. Buddhism’s innovation lay in its appeal to both streams, through its espousal of a “Middle Path.”
The founder of the doctrine, whose birth, enlightenment, and passing away we commemorate today, was in many respects a representative of the transitions of the period he was born to. While much of his life remains shrouded in mystery, there is certainly no lack of biographies, including the Pali Canonical texts, the Tripitakaya, Buddhagosa’s Aththakatha or Commentaries, and Asvaghosa’s Buddhacharitha.
His life story has long become an enigma. Orientalists and Pali scholars, including Carl Koeppen (Die Religion des Buddha und ihre Entstehung, 1857), W. Wassiljew (Der Buddhismus: Seine Dogmen, Geschichte, und Literatur, 1860), Hermann Oldenberg (Buddha: Sein Leben, seine Lehre, seine Gemeinde, 1881), and Edward Thomas (The Life of the Buddha as Legend and History, 1908), not to mention Edwin Arnold (The Light of Asia, 1879) and Hermann Hesse (Siddhartha, 1927), have published one biography after another.
These texts, including the Canonical ones, differ on certain points. Michael Carrithers, for instance, argued that the Sakyans were not strictly speaking kings, but were instead oligarchs “or councils of elders, or some mixture of the two”, or leaders of tribal republics that were yielding place to the Maghada Empire. At the First Buddhist Council after the Mahaparinibbana, the interpreters were divided over whether Gautama saw the “four sights” in one go and day or over several days: the “Digabhanakas”, entrusted with the study of the Digha Nikaya, supposedly made the case for the former view, while other groups favoured the latter.
Despite these differences and disagreements, the outline of Buddhism has survived to this date, and continues to exert a tremendous influence over Asia, in particular Sri Lanka. To admit that, however, is to understate the reality, for Buddhism inspired in the latter not just its marvels of architecture and art, but its very civilisation. Its tolerant character enabled it to incorporate and absorb facets of other cultures, including Hinduism and Christianity.
Newton Gunasinghe saw in the transformation of Buddhism from an urban theology in India to a folk religion in Sri Lanka an ideological paradigm shift, one which suited the dominant social patterns of both countries. Hence, from the emperor and urban-dweller Buddhism came to be patronised, in Sri Lanka, by the king, landlord, and peasant.
By the turn of the 19th century, when urbanisation made inroads through British colonialism, Buddhism in Sri Lanka faced its second awakening: the Buddhist Revival, led by Theosophists and “Protestant” in its outlook. Yet despite its urban trappings, even this remained bonded to the rural origins of the religion. As in the Ganges Valley and the Middle Kingdom of India, the teachings of the Buddha adjusted to their environment, and with that to entirely new patterns of life, without letting go of their cultural and civilisational roots.
Uditha Devapriya is a writer, researcher, and analyst who writes on topics such as history, art and culture, politics, and foreign policy. He is one of the two leads in U & U, an informal art and culture research collective. He can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com.
Features
Putting people back into ‘development’ – a challenge for South
Should Sri Lanka consider an 18th IMF programme? Some academicians exploring Sri Lanka’s development prospects in depth are raising this issue. It is yet to emerge as a hot topic among policy and decision-making circles in this country but common sense would sooner rather than later dictate that it be taken up for discussion by the wider public and a decision arrived at.
The issue of an 18th IMF programme was raised with some urgency locally by none other than Dr. Ganeshan Wignaraja,Visiting Senior Fellow, ODI Global London, one of whose presentations, made at the Regional Centre for Strategic Studies (RCSS), Colombo, was highlighted in this column last week, May 7th. An IMF programme is far from the ideal way out for a bankrupt country such as Sri Lanka but a policy of economic pragmatism would indicate that there is no other way out for Sri Lanka. Such a programme is the proverbial ‘Bird in the hand’ for Sri Lanka and it may be compelled to avail of it to get itself out of the morass of economic failures it is bogged down in currently.
While local economic growth possibilities are far from encouraging at present, such prospects globally are far from bright as well. Some of the more thought-provoking data in the latter regard were disclosed by Dr. Wignaraja. For example, ‘The IMF’s April 2026 World Economic Outlook projects global growth slowing to 3.1 percent in 2026; with downside risks dominating: prolonged conflict, geopolitical fragmentation, renewed trade tensions, bearing down hardest on emergent and developing economies.’
However, as is known, an ‘IMF bailout’ is fraught with huge risks for the people of a developing country. ‘The Silver Bullet’ brings hardships for the people usually and they would be required by their governments to increasingly ‘tighten their belts’ and brace for perhaps indefinite material hardships and discontent. For Sri Lanka, the cost of living is unsettlingly high and 20 percent of the population is languishing below the poverty line of $ 3.65 per day.
These statistics should help put the spotlight on the people of a country, who are theoretically the subjects and beneficiaries of development, and one of the main reasons, in so far as democracies are concerned, for the existence of governments. Placing people at the centre of the development process is urgently needed in the global South and shifting the focus to other considerations would be tantamount to governments dabbling in misplaced priorities.
Technocrats are needed for the propelling of economic growth but a Southern country’s main approach to development cannot be entirely technocratic in nature. The well being of the people and how it is affected by such growth strategies need to be prime focuses in discussions on development. Accordingly, discourses on how poverty alleviation could be facilitated need urgent initiation and perpetuation. There is no getting away from people’s empowerment.
In the South over the decades, the above themes have been, more or less, allowed to lapse in discussions on development. With economic liberalization and ‘market economics’ being allowed to eclipse development, correctly understood, people’s well being could be said to have been downplayed by Southern governments.
The development issues of Southern publics could be also said to have been compounded over the years as a result of the hemisphere lacking a single and effective ‘voice’ that could consistently and forcefully take up its questions with the global powers and institutions that matter. That is, the South lacks an all-embracing, umbrella organization that could bring together and muster the collective will of the South and work towards the realization of its best interests.
This columnist has time and again brought up the need for concerned Southern sections to explore the potential within the now virtually moribund Non-Aligned Movement to reactivate itself and fill the above lacuna in the South’s organizational and mobilization capability. In its heyday NAM not only possessed this institutional capability but had ample ‘voice power’ in the form of its founding fathers, with Jawaharlal Nehru of India, for example, proving a power to reckon with in this regard. The lack of such leaders at present needs to be factored in as well as accounting for the South’s lack of power and presence in the deliberative forums of the world that have a bearing on the hemisphere’s well being.
The Executive Director of the RCSS, Ambassador (Retd) Ravinatha Aryasinha, articulated some interesting thoughts on the above and related questions at a forum a couple of months back. Speaking at the launching of the book authored by Prof. Gamini Keerewella titled, ‘Reimagining International Relations from a Global South Perspective’, at the Bandaranaike Centre for International Studies, Colombo, Amb. Aryasinha said, among other things: ‘Historically, there is a precedent that has been realized by the Non-Aligned group of countries – unfortunately, rather than being reformed and modified at the end of the Cold War, it has been tossed away.’
The inability of the nominally existent NAM to come out of its state of veritable paralysis and voice and act in the name of the South in the current international crises lends credence to the view that the organization has allowed itself to be ‘tossed away.’ The challenge before NAM is to prove that it is by no means a spent force.
As indicted, NAM needs vibrant voices that could advocate value-based advancement for the global South. Moral principles need to triumph over Realpolitik. Such transformative changes could come to pass if there is a fresh meeting of enlightened minds within the South. Pakistan by offering to mediate in the ongoing conflict between the US and Iran, for instance, proved that there are still states within the South that could look beyond narrow self-interest and work towards some collective goals. Hopefully, Pakistan’s example will be emulated.
Along with Pakistan some Gulf states have shown willingness to work towards a de-escalation of the present hostilities in West Asia. This could be a beginning for the undertaking of more ambitious, collective projects by the South that have as their goals political solutions to current international crises. These developments prove that the South is not bereft of visionary thinking that could lay the basis for a measure of world peace. That is, there are grounds to be hopeful.
NAM needs to see it as its responsibility to make good use of these hopeful signs to bring the South together once again and work towards the realization of its founding principles, such as initiating value-based international politics and laying the basis for the collective economic betterment of Southern people.
Features
Artificial Intelligence in Academia: Menace or Tool?
(The author is on X as @sasmester)
I have often been told by university colleagues how soulless and dangerous ‘artificial intelligence’ (AI) is to academia and humanity. They lament that students no longer read anything as they can now get various AI programmes to summarise what is recommended which is mostly in the English language to Sinhala or Tamil or get easier versions in English itself. They get their assignments and even dissertations fully or partially written by AI. And I am led to believe that universities do not have reliable detection software to assess plagiarism and academic fraud that have been committed using AI beyond the software freely available on the internet with their own limitations. This is due to financial restrictions in these institutions. Even these common malpractices have been done mostly with the aid of free AI programmes which are readily available, which means cheating in this sense is free and mostly safe. For teachers, this is a ‘menace’ in the same way ‘copying’ once was. But its implications are far worse.
But given the global investments made over AI, it cannot be wished away despite the enormous negative impact its use has on the environment, particularly due to its massive demand for energy. So, AI is with us to stay, and it has a considerable role to play in human civilisation even though like most innovations and inventions, this too carries its own burden of negativity. In this context, instead of demonising AI and lamenting its replacement of human agency and ingenuity, one needs to think seriously about how to deal with and engage with it reflectively and pragmatically as there is much it can offer if people are intelligent enough to make rational and sensible choices.
When I am making these observations, I am restricting myself to a handful of practices involving only writing both in university-based examination processes and in the fields of creative writing.
My initial introduction to AI was through the Research Methods class I used to teach in New Delhi. In 2022, this class was supposed to go to Dharmshala in Uttar Pradesh for fieldwork training, and we needed to write a funding proposal quickly. One of the students in the class, already familiar with ChatGPT introduced by OpenAI as a free programme in 2022, did the proposal with its help before the two-hour class was over. I edited it soon after and sent it off to the university administration for funding which we received. That stint of field work was completed in five days and was the most detailed work undertaken as a training programme up to that time in the university which had considerable output ranging from a documentary film to a detailed ethnography based on the findings.
While the technical details, the format of the proposal and its basic writing were done by AI due to the time constraints the class faced, its fine-tuning was done by me and a few students. AI could not then and even now cannot undertake that level of specificity without close human intervention. But the film, the ethnography and the actual process of research had nothing to do with AI. It was the result of human labour, thinking, planning and at times creativity and ingenuity. This was an early example of how AI could coexist in an academic environment if its technical usefulness was clearly understood and potential for excesses was also understood. But this was a time, easily accessible AI was just emerging, and we did not know much about it. But I was fortunate enough to have intelligent students in my class who gave me a crash course into this kind of AI use, which I followed up with my own reading and experimentation later on. As a result, I am keener now to see how it can be used for the betterment of academic practice rather than taking an uncritically demonising position, which I know will not lead anywhere.
But how is this possible? The lamentations of my colleagues about the abuse of AI in academic practice is not unfounded. It is a serious threat that remains mostly unaddressed not only in our country but almost everywhere else in the world too. This is mostly because the advancements of AI even in day-to-day free usage have far exceeded any thoughts for actionable codes of ethics to ensure its practice is sensible and ethical. At the same time, I cannot see why a student should not use AI to correct his spelling and grammar in assignments. I also cannot see why a student cannot seek AI’s help to secure research material from secondary sources available online which I have been doing for years. For instance, the originals of specific books and rare manuscripts might not be available in any repositories in our part of the world. In such situations, what AI might find us is all we have access to in a world where we are restricted in our mobility due to semi-racist visa regimes of failed empires and former superpowers as well as our own lack of ability to travel due to our own unenviable economic conditions. But unfortunately, the materials we need are often only available in research centers and libraries in those nations.
Similarly, when it comes to academic prose, it makes no sense now to take years to translate works from multiple languages to Sinhala and Tamil. This has always been a time-consuming, cumbersome and expensive process. Non-availability of Sinhala and English translations of core originals in languages such as English, French, German and so on has been a long-term problem for our country. But this can now be done well – at least from English to our languages – quite quickly and with a very low margin for error by using specific AI programmes which are meant to do precisely this. What this means is a quick expansion of knowledge in local languages which would have ordinarily taken years to achieve or might not have been possible at all. But still, this needs significant human intervention and time towards perfection. However, I do not think AI-based translations work as well for fiction and poetry or creative works more generally. But the ability for AI to emulate nuance and feeling in language is fast emerging. These are two clear examples of improving technical abilities in research and writing in which AI can be of help.
But looking for sources of information with help the help of AI or using it as a tool to undertake essential translations from one language to another is quite different from simply using it without ascertaining the accuracy of collected information, getting AI to do all your work without any reflection or without any hard work at all, including engaging AI to do the final product in a writing assignment — be that a term paper or a work of fiction. If one proceeds in this direction, as many unfortunately do nowadays, then, our ability to think and be creative as a species will become diminished over time and our sense of humanity itself will take a toll. This is what my colleagues worry about when they say AI is making younger generations soulless.
It is here that ethical practices on how to use AI responsibly without compromising our sense of humanity must play a central role. But these ethical practices must be formally written and taught, followed by viable programmes for detection and publication if unethical practices are followed. This needs to be the case particularly in teaching institutions as well as the broader domain of creative writing. After all, what is the fun in reading a novel or a collection of poetry written by AI?
It is time people began to think about what AI can do in their own fields without falling prey to its power and their own laziness. This brings to my mind Geoffrey Hinton’s words: “There is no chance of stopping AI’s development. But we need to ensure alignment; to ensure it is beneficial to us …” Similarly, as Yann LeCun observed, “AI is not just about replicating human intelligence; it’s about creating intelligent systems that can surpass human limitations.” In this sense, it is up to us to find our edge in creativity and common sense to find the most sensible way forward in using AI.
Features
Engelbert’s 90th birthday bash
The legendary Engelbert Humperdinck, who is known for his hit songs such as ‘A Man Without Love’, ‘Release Me’, ‘Spanish Eyes’, ‘The Last Waltz’, ‘Am I That Easy To Forget’, ‘Ten Guitars’ and ‘I Can’t Stop Loving You’, turned 90 on 02 May, 2026, and there were some lovely Hollywood-related celebrations.
Before his birthday, Engelbert’s new single ‘I’ve Got You’ was released – on 23 April – and Engelbert had this to say: “‘I’ve Got You’ is especially close to my heart. It speaks to love, loyalty, and the quiet strength we find in one another”.
The main birthday event was held at The Starlight Cabaret, in Los Angeles, California, and Sri Lankan Raju Rasiah, now based in the States, and his wife Renuka, who are personal friends of Engelbert, were invited to participate in the celebrations, along with Ingrid Melicon – also a Sri Lankan, now domiciled in America.
The invitation said “An evening of music, memories and celebration. Let’s make it a night to remember!” And it certainly turned out to be a night never ever to be forgotten!

Invitees experienced a “magical entrance” with Engelbert’s name lighting up the screen and showing him performing his hit songs.
The invitees were also presented with a unique gift – a necklace with Engelbert’s face, engraved with the words “Remember, I Love You.”
Engelbert’s son, Bradley Dorsey, sang a tribute song ‘Only You’ for his dad, while Eddy Fisher’s daughters, Tricia and Joely, also got on stage to entertaining the distinguish gathering.
Engelbert didn’t perform but got on stage for the cutting of the birthday cake.
There was also a video compilation of birthday wishes from fellow celebrities, and the lineup included Gloria Gaynor, Micky Dolenz, Wayne Newton, Pat Boone, Lulu, Judy Collins, Deana Martin, Angélica María, Rupert Everett, Matt Goss, and more.

Birthday boy Engelbert Humperdinck
At 90, Engelbert is still performing. He’s on THE CELEBRATION TOUR for his 90th year, with over 50 international dates in 2026, including Australia, Germany, the US, and Canada. He’ll be at Massey Hall in, Toronto, on 06 October, 2026. He said: “The stage is my home… Canada has always been a highlight”.
He performed 60+ concerts, worldwide, in 2025, and says karaoke keeps his songs fresh: “Most of my songs are on karaoke because people love to sing them”.
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