Opinion
Constitution making:
A layman’s view
by ROHANA R. WASALA
‘At least since Rousseau’s Social Contract and the end of the divine right of kings, the state has been seen as party to a contract with the people – a contract to guarantee or supply the necessary order in society. Without the state’s soldiers, police and the apparatus of control, we are told, gangs or brigands would take over our streets. Extortion, rape, robbery and murder would rip away the last threads of the “thin veneer of civilization.”’ – Alvin Toffler, Powershift, 1990.
The late Alvin Toffler (American writer, journalist, educator, and businessman) says this while reflecting on the nature of power as one of the most basic social phenomena. ‘Power……implies a world that combines both chance, necessity, chaos and order.’ According to him, we humans ‘share an irrepressible, biologically rooted craving for a modicum of order in our daily lives, along with a hunger for novelty. It is the need for order that provides the main justification for the very existence of government’.
Sri Lankans are currently experiencing, in the raw, a taste of the evils that Toffler says the absence of order would breed, which makes constitution making interesting for them. But what is a constitution? Google offers a simple definition of the term: ‘a body of fundamental principles or established precedents according to which a state or other organization is acknowledged to be governed’.
Now, Professor Jayadeva Uyangoda (‘A very wrong approach to Constitution-making’/The Island/September 29, 2020) opines that the proposed 20A has ‘several major defects’. One key fault, according to him, is that the approach adopted for drafting the amendment is ‘very wrong’. JU offers a number of reasons to explain this alleged wrongness of the ‘approach’: the ‘sponsors and framers’ (I suppose the phrase means the politicians and the legal experts behind the drafting of 20A) refuse to learn ‘constructive lessons from past constitutional reform experiments’, but they have learned some ‘partisan, narrow-minded, politically short-sighted ones’. What he probably means by this becomes clear (not clear enough though) in the rest of his article, but it is doubtful whether his sense of right and wrong in the context is shared by many outside the now diminished anti-nationalist coterie, who occupied the parliament for four and a half years and hexed it with the controversial 19A.
It is not necessary to read further into JU’s article to be able to infer where his own inexcusable biases lie. He is obviously in favour of 13A and 19A forced on the nation from outside, and is against the present government’s sincere effort to remove the obstacles placed on its path by the departing yahapalanaya through its ill-conceived constitutional mixed bag that is 19A, where what is bad is by choice, and what is good is by chance. This is not to argue that the new 20A is perfect in comparison. I share many objections raised in different quarters against the proposed 20A, but I believe that the moot points will be satisfactorily sorted out by the present leaders before they manage to get it through parliament.
The Opposition critics of 20A quite well know that it is, after all, only a stopgap measure to clear the way for the unhindered implementation of the government’s development plans. The government will introduce a completely new Constitution within a year or two. JU’s advice as a political scientist will come in handy then.
The proposed 20A is not an arbitrary piece of legislation that the government is introducing behind the back of the people. There is considerable opposition to some of its articles even within the government ranks. Unlike in the case of 19A, the passage of 20A will be a democratic, above-board affair. The Minister of Justice on behalf of the government issued it as a draft bill for public view and review in all three languages on September 2, 2020. The document clearly specifies what is to be amended, repealed, or replaced. The yahapalana constitutional fraud in the form of 19A is not being repeated. Over this four-week period, some thirty-nine petitions have been filed challenging 20A’s constitutionality before the Supreme Court and they were being heard for the third day (October 2) by a bench of five judges, at the time of writing. The government has already declared that it will abide by the court decision by duly adjusting its response to it. JU’s alarms and warnings are uncalled for.
By the phrase ‘past constitutional reform experiments’, JU must be referring to the making of the first and second republican Constitutions (of 1972 and 1978 respectively) and the substantial number of opportune as well as ad hoc amendments introduced by successive governments since, some of them questionable and controversial, where 19A stands in a class by itself as the best example of the worst type of constitutional reform introduced in Sri Lanka to date. What prompts him to describe them as experiments is probably the fact that he is a political scientist with his indispensable toolkit of academic analysis. My interest as a lay citizen, modestly informed of the original construction and subsequent reform of a constitution, is concerned with how good it is going to be for the largest number of the people of the country, as its supreme law, in the context of the more or less stable social and political realities that are prevailing.
As a Constitution is not holy writ, it is open to appropriate amendments from time to time, in compliance with the will of the people, as and when these realities change; a constitution specifies the legal way to reform or replace it as the case may be. The current 1978 republican constitution as amended up to 2015 (Chapter XII/Articles 82-84) specifies the procedure for amending or repealing the constitution. The people whose memory of the yahapalana misadventure is still fresh are anxiously aware of the necessity of passing the 20A.
Contrary to what JU asserts, the political leaders and the legal luminaries responsible for drafting the proposed 20A, have not forgotten the constructive lessons left by their respective predecessors in the form of Sirimavo Bandaranaike and Colvin R. de Silva (1972), and J.R. Jayewardene and J.A. Wilson (1978). Both Bandaranaike and Jayewardene cared about the country, the people, and the culture. Both displayed firm leadership in governing, and a high level of intellect in statecraft. Sirimavo Bandaranaike had her native wit, and Jayewardene possessed a good education. In April 1971, Bandaranaike nipped the JVP terrorism in the bud, not without some violence, though, that she never intended. Opposition leader Jayewardene approved of her actions, saying, ‘yes, a government must rule’. For her courage, firmness, and composure, she was described then as the only male in her cabinet. The contribution of the inspiration provided by Bandaranaike’s political leadership to the making of the first Republican Constitution, the principal architect of which was de Silva, must have been immense and indispensable. Later, hadn’t Jayewardene got Wilson to write the powerful institution of executive presidency into the second republican constitution (1978) as the main anchor to the unitary state, the sovereign Sri Lankan republic that Bandaranaike and de Silva created for the people would have disintegrated and drifted into wilderness and oblivion by now.
Back to the point.
The second alleged defect that JU asserts, without any evidence to support his opinion, is that ‘the framers of the 20A are not motivated by the broader democratic interests of all Sri Lankan people, but the ‘political self-interest’ (of someone or group that JU avoids mentioning). A third defect, JU identifies the Amendment’s supposed lack of ‘a democratic formative framework relevant to our society and its own progressive-modernist legacies of constitutionalism .. (together with the fact that).. it builds itself on one or two dreadful and destructive experiments of constitution-making in the recent past’. This is as close to clear as I can get in interpreting JU here. To illustrate the ‘one or two dreadful and destructive experiments of constitution-making in the recent past’, I think, he draws upon what he, assuming a kind of arbitrary academic license, calls the ‘relatively long history of unmaking, making, and amending constitutions’ that includes the 1972 and 1978 exercises on the one hand, and the 1978C and 18A on the other. JU’s adjectives ‘dreadful and destructive’ could be justifiably applied to the passage of 19A and other such ‘experiments’ in constitutional reform, as contained, for example, in Chapter IV of the Constitution of the Democratic Socialist Republic of Sri Lanka (As amended up to 15th May 2015) (Revised Edition – 2015) issued by the Parliamentary Secretariat. Chapter IV – Language covers Articles 18-25. One is bewildered by what the crafty, ill-meaning, ‘sponsors and framers’ have from time to time done to degrade Sinhala in its official status with the uncomprehending concurrence of some self-seeking Sinhala MPs in the House. This, of course, would be an iconic piece of constitution-making for a theorist with one’s head in the clouds.
The practical reality is that the operative meaning of any Article (whether this is legally contested or not) is implicitly embodied in the English text (though, according to the present constitution Sinhala and Tamil are both official languages, while English is the link language.). So, it is vitally important to translate the draft document that is the Constitution into precise, unambiguous, formal and legally acceptable and uncontestable Sinhala and Tamil. I detected a couple of stark discrepancies between the original English draft and the Sinhala translation (not relating to the particular context – Chapter IV – mentioned above) when I made a very random comparison between the two versions while researching an article at the time, but I don’t remember whether I dwelt on the subject long enough for it to be taken notice of by the reader as something important, though beyond the central scope of that article. Apart from this, those sufficiently informed did not fail to see how some Tamil lawmakers wanted to openly hoodwink the Sinhalas with the word ‘akeeya’ stripped of its intended original meaning of unitary, but falsely insisting that the English term ‘unitary’ was not its equivalent and was not suitable as a translation, and started talking about an ‘Orumiththa Nadu’, reminiscent of Tamil Nadu. How the question which version should prevail in case of an incongruence between the Sinhala and Tamil texts should be resolved, I can’t remember having been discussed. But the last item (58) of the published draft of 20A runs: ‘In the event of any inconsistency between the Sinhala and Tamil texts of this Act, the Sinhala text shall prevail.’
Having outlined the lessons to be learnt from constitution-making, -unmaking, and -reforming exercises up to 18A, JU moves on to the many lessons that he thinks may be drawn from the ‘much maligned’ 19A. He identifies four key lessons. The first lesson he mentions is that wide public consultation is useful, and helps ‘improve the level of democratic health in the polity’. I cannot agree with him that this was true about the drafting of 19A. It was claimed that the constitutional experts including Jayampathy Wickremaratne, presumably its principal drafter, toured the country meeting with individuals and representatives of many minority civil groups during a short period of two or three months. They had to rush the job, they said, as they were in a hurry to finish it within a stipulated time frame. About two thousand people were consulted nevertheless, they claimed. It was obvious that they roamed the country making it their main aim to pay more attention to the minorities that they had decided were discriminated against by the majority Sinhalese, as they wanted the meddling foreign powers to believe in order to justify their interventionist excesses in the internal and external politics of the country. Meanwhile they paid only symbolic attention to the Sinhalese majority. Wickremaratne, the chief architect of the fraudulent document, is now rumoured/reported to have found or is seeking political asylum in Australia or somewhere (though there is absolutely no possibility of his being targeted for persecution in Sri Lanka). He has reportedly admitted that 19A is problematic.
The second lesson that JU asserts he can learn from the making of 19A is that it is ‘better to build consensus across all political parties in Parliament for a major amendment or a new Constitution’. If he means that 19A set a negative example of that principle, then he has a case. But in actuality, 19A destroyed the burgeoning interparty consensus in Parliament and the growing intercommunal goodwill in the broader society that the MR government achieved in the wake of victory over terrorism. It was because of this that ‘for partisan political reasons, some might later withdraw from the consensus’ as JU laments.
I agree with JU on the third lesson he derives from his seemingly iconic amendment, which is that ‘If the consultation and consensus-building in constitution-making is not politically managed with clarity of purpose, the overall goals of the constitutional compromise may run the risk of producing a constitutional scheme with potentially harmful internal anomalies and contradictions’. Yes, in other words, 19A is a very good illustration of a very bad constitutional amendment.
The fourth lesson that 19A offers, according to JU, is that ‘a democratic constitution-making exercise today needs, more than ever, an unwavering political leadership to champion it through to the end by innovative and imaginative democratic means’. In my opinion, this is what the pre-2015 government achieved. 19A, by dismantling it, demonstrated how ill the nation fared in the absence of such unwavering, innovative, and democratic leadership. Then, JU starts chewing his own tail, by suggesting a ‘paradoxical’ reason: ‘Alternatives to democracy are also competing with democracy, with enormous material resources, to gain popular support and loyalty through democratic means. In this age of right-wing populism, media-manufactured popular consent and manipulation of public perceptions through information pollution, post-democratic alternatives tend to gain easy currency and public legitimacy’. Frankly, I can’t make head or tail of this, but it makes me wonder whether JU is trying to make light of the very real persecution of the majority community that is hardly recognized by most mainstream politicians, who feel obliged to find refuge behind political correctness.
Opinion
Ranasighe Premadasa: Man of the Masses
I was struck by the article written by MDD Pieris in The Sunday Island, under the title, “Free school uniform decision taken in minutes on a platform in Bakamuna” by President Premadasa. I am penning this piece as a tribute to this remarkable visionary in social development and grassroots economic policy, who was tragically assassinated by an LTTE suicide bomber in Colombo exactly 33 years ago.
The term of Sri Lanka’s first Executive President, J. R. Jayewardene (JRJ), was ending in 1989. As the constitution required, JRJ decided to call a presidential election. After some uncertainty within the United National Party (UNP) about who should be the next candidate, then-Party Chairman Ranjan Wijeratne and JRJ’s security advisor Ravi Jayewardene (JRJ’s only son) thought the best candidate was Prime Minister Ranasinghe Premadasa. They realised that the country was moving from elite-centred, Colombo-focused politics toward a more populist, grassroots and security-dominated phase.
They advised the President JRJ and party stalwarts accordingly.
At a UNP Parliamentary Group and Working Committee meeting, J. R. Jayewardene proposed Premadasa’s name. To maintain party unity and avoid an internal contest, he also arranged for Premadasa’s main political rivals from the UNP, Lalith Athulathmudali and Gamini Dissanayake, to second the nomination. This move made Premadasa the unanimous party choice.
Premadasa played a key role in the UNP’s landslide victory in the 1977 parliamentary election, boosting its grassroots membership through his “Man of the Masses” image. He was then appointed deputy leader of the party.
The second Presidential Election took place on December 19, 1988, amid severe unrest. The Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP) called for a boycott and staged a violent protest in the south.
Despite a low voter turnout and violence, the election went ahead, and Premadasa won a clear majority of valid votes, defeating main opposition candidate Sirimavo Bandaranaike from the SLFP. Ranasinghe Premadasa was sworn in on January 2, 1989, as Sri Lanka’s second executive president.
Premadasa was a strong nationalist who campaigned for the withdrawal of the Indian Peace Keeping Force (IPKF), whose presence was unpopular among the Sinhalese majority. He saw the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), actively fighting the IPKF, as a potential ally in this effort.
His predecessor JRJ did argue that the Tamil issue was a very ancient problem and therefore external mediation might be necessary, which partly explains why he accepted Indian involvement leading to the 1987 accord.
In a pointed critique of India, Premadasa believed that the ethnic conflict could be resolved internally without foreign intervention.
He invited the LTTE and the JVP for talks as part of a strategy to end the prevailing dual insurrections, bring the groups into the democratic process, and secure the withdrawal of the IPKF from Sri Lanka. The LTTE accepted the offer and sent a delegation to Colombo for talks.
The LTTE delegation was transported by helicopter from the Mullaitivu jungles to Colombo. Premadasa arranged for LTTE ideologue Anton Balasingham and his wife, Adele, to fly to Colombo from London via Air Lanka at government expense. The LTTE team was provided with tight security managed by the Special Task Force (STF). During their stay in Colombo, LTTE cadres were permitted to retain their personal weapons as part of the security arrangements.
During the Premadasa–LTTE talks, the LTTE visited the homes of key traditional Tamil democratic leaders, such as A. Amirthalingam and V. Yogeswaran, for discussion and assassinated them, effectively destroying moderate Tamil parliamentary politics.
Both the JVP and Premadasa were opposed to the Indo-Lanka Accord and the IPKF presence, which provided a shared point of interest. He called an All Party Conference (APC) to resolve the problem through dialogue. JVP, however, refused to attend this conference. He then launched a brutal crackdown on the JVP using extreme counter-insurgency methods under the direct supervision of State Minister for Defence General Ranjan Wijeratne.
A period remembered for severe human-rights abuses and some opposition members even took the matter to the UN Commission on Human Rights. The crackdown ended with JVP leader Rohana Wijeweera being killed.
At the request of the President Premadasa, India withdrew the IPKF between September 1989 and March 1990.
Rural Unemployment and 200 Garment Factory Programme
Premadasa was from a humble, urban, working-class background, rose through grassroots politics in Colombo and had a better understanding of the grievances and aspirations of people of rural areas compared to JRJ. He knew the main problem was the unemployment of rural youth. He also knew that developing agriculture alone would not help solve this problem. He therefore decided to take industries to rural areas and embarked on the famous 200 garment factory programme.
He logically explained what his objective was when a prominent university professor of the time asked him what he was aiming to achieve through the programme.
He said one of the main problems Sri Lanka faced was rural unemployment, especially among the youth. Unless this issue was addressed, there would be no meaningful development in the country, as these youths would become pawns of political activists.
He identified unemployment as the root cause of political violence. Therefore, he wanted industrialisation to reach rural areas.
But he said there are obstacles. Sri Lanka, being an agriculture-based country, has most people not used to “industrial discipline.” It had been largely an Agricultural, Public-sector oriented and Plantation-based economy and society since colonial era and even after independence. The majority Sinhalese are accustomed to an easy life working in the paddy fields and practing Chena cultivation for thousands of years.
A common feature of the few factories established since Independence, both public and private, was the high absenteeism during the paddy harvesting periods, which left the management in a precarious situation.
Many rural youths had never worked in a factory environment with fixed working hours, meeting production targets, strict quality control and assembly-line work.
Without industrial discipline among the rural folks, no investor would risk his money setting up factories in rural areas. Some rural girls working in the Katunayake FTZ faced significant problems. They face isolation and lack of support, sexual risks and exploitation, language barriers, and more. When they work in a factory close to their homes, most of these issues could be resolved, Premadasa said.
On the other hand, garment manufacturing isn’t too complicated technology-wise. So, it was easy to train mechanics in preventive and break-down maintenance and operators in operational aspects.
He also knew it would help integrate rural areas into the export economy, and into a global value chain (GVC) moving beyond traditional free trade zones like Katunayake and Biyagama.
World Textile and Apparel (T&A) production went through three main phases, mostly based on production costs. First, in the 1970s in Hong Kong, Singapore, the Republic of Korea, and Taiwan, and during 1985-1990, they (Factory owners) reduced production and moved operations to the Philippines, Indonesia, Thailand, and Malaysia. The third phase involved shifting to countries like Bangladesh, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Laos, Nepal, and Vietnam during the early 1990s. Premadasa aimed to take advantage of this trend.
His target was to create about 100,000 jobs, with factories typically employing at least 500 workers and giving employment opportunities in rural areas. Preference was deliberately given to economically disadvantaged families, helping spread incomes beyond urban centres.
Structural changes initiated to facilitate 200 garment factory programme
The Greater Colombo Economic Commission (GCEC), established in 1978 under JRJ, was originally created to manage Free Trade Zones (FTZs) like Katunayake and attract export-oriented foreign direct investment (FDI) into specific zones.
Premadasa transformed the GCEC into a national-level investment facilitator and renamed it the Board of Investment of Sri Lanka (BOI). It was more of a functional transformation and expansion of the GCEC role. With BOI, he established a centralised decision-making structure to expedite project approvals and reduce bureaucracy.
BOI effectively served as a “one-stop shop”, which was crucial because garment investors required speed and predictability.
President Premadasa Meeting the Potential Investors
\Working out the strategy with his handpicked officials, President Premadasa convened a meeting of potential investors at BMICH. The first meeting played a key role in launching the garment factory programme and demonstrated his hands-on, interventionist approach to economic development.
There were many would-be investors, mainly locals and entrepreneurs from countries like South Korea, Singapore and other Newly Industrialised Countries (NICs).
Premadasa personally addressed attendees and explained his vision of moving investment into rural districts. He said there are tax holidays on offer (the length varies by location, especially for rural/”difficult” areas), duty-free import of machinery and raw materials would be allowed, and guaranteed access to U.S. garment quotas under the Multi-Fibre Arrangement (MFA). The quotas would be allocated based on location: 10,000 dozen for non-difficult areas, 25,000 dozen for difficult areas and 50,000 dozen for the most difficult areas.\
He also said land, electricity, water, roads, and telecommunication would be provided by the state through the Board of Investment (BOI), the government agency responsible for promoting and facilitating investment. On the finance side permission to open foreign currency accounts would be allowed, and access to loans (including foreign currency banking units) would be available.
Premadasa requested investors to set up their factories to employ around 500 workers per factory and prioritise recruitment from low-income rural families. He also requested to provide meals (or subsidised food) to workers. It was however not a formal legal requirement written into BOI agreements.
He also offered duty-free import of a luxury vehicle (e.g., Benz car) after project completion.
Premadasa then concluded the meeting, assuring them that he will meet in a month or so to assess the progress.
At the progress review meeting held at the same venue, Premadasa asked if anyone had problems. About 10% of the attendees raised their hands, and the president asked them to move to the side. Then he said, “I will work with those who don’t have problems,” and asked the others to leave the chamber. This was how Premadasa achieved his goals.
Opening of factories under the programme
Premadasa personally supervised the progress of the programme. All initial problems reported to him by investors through his officials were quickly resolved.
He often had a clock tower built near many factories opened under the “200 Garment Factories Programme.” He believed that factory workers—mostly young people who had previously worked in agriculture or informal jobs—needed to adapt to strict working hours and punctuality. The clock tower served as a visible public timekeeper for workers and the surrounding community and it symbolized the transition from a village lifestyle to an industrial work culture.
Although Sri Lankan youth initially lacked technical skills and industrial discipline, they were able to assimilate into the garment industry relatively quickly because training requirements were short, production systems simplified tasks and strong factory training programs were introduced with the public institutions like Sri Lanka Institute of Textile & Apparel (SLITA). Above all literacy levels among the Sri Lankan youths were high.
This adaptability is one reason why Sri Lanka became a major garment exporter in the 1990s.
He attended numerous factory opening ceremonies from the late 1980s to the early 1990s, especially in less underdeveloped areas like Matale, Polonnaruwa, and Monaragala. Some factories launched under this programme have now grown into large conglomerates with factories in many other countries.
Success of the garment factory programme The 200 Garment Factories Programme played a pivotal role in transforming Sri Lanka into a global hub for apparel manufacturing, while also introducing modern industrial employment to rural districts for the first time.
Today, the garment industry continues to be Sri Lanka’s largest export sector, underscoring the lasting impact of this initiative.
J.R. Jayewardene’s modernisation strategy
It was JRJ who attempted to modernise Sri Lanka after coming to power.
Although JRJ’s government (1977–1989) achieved many successes in modernising the country, leading to economic development and improved living standards through major economic liberalisation and constitutional changes, it also faced numerous failures.
The benefits of the open economy concentrated in urban and Western Province areas. Expansion of the private sector and open economy did not absorb educated youth from rural areas. As a result, there was a huge mismatch between the education system and job market contributing to youth frustration and radicalisation, especially in the south.
Premadasa, after coming to power as Executive President of Sri Lanka, attempted to correct many weaknesses under the previous president, while taking forward the “Modernisation Programme” launched by him. Through “200 Garment Factories Programme” he attempted to take “National Development” to rural areas.
Another area he attempted to rectify was the recruitment process in public employment, which was often based on political patronage and arbitrary appointments made based on party loyalty. He directed that vacancies—particularly for non-technical jobs in the public service and state institutions—be filled through competitive written examinations and interviews, rather than ministerial recommendations.
Unfortunately, Premadasa’s main failure was underestimating the LTTE’s long-term goals. He only sought a political opening with the LTTE, mainly to achieve one objective: the withdrawal of the IPKF. Although he succeeded, the LTTE quickly turned against the government and launched the Second Elam War in June 1990 after attacking police and military targets.
Premadasa was assassinated in an LTTE suicide bomber attack in Colombo exactly 33 years ago.
The LTTE continued its insurgency until its defeat in 2009.
by Rohan Abeygunawardena
abeyrohan@gmail.com)
Opinion
The pointer who showed the moon: Professor Y. Karunadasa (1934–2026)
On 27 April 2026, Sri Lanka lost a quiet giant. Professor Y. Karunadasa, one of the world’s foremost scholars of Abhidhamma and Buddhist philosophy, passed away in Colombo. He was 92.
For those who never sat in his classroom, the name might sound distant. But for anyone who has ever wondered what the Buddha really meant by anatta (no‑self) or sabhāva (intrinsic nature), Karunadasa’s work was a lantern in the dark. He did not write to impress other academics. He wrote to make the Dhamma clear.
Born in 1934, he graduated with First Class Honours in Pali from the University of Ceylon in 1958. A decade later, his PhD thesis from the University of London became his landmark book, The Buddhist Analysis of Matter. One reviewer called it “the final word on the subject for many years to come.” He later served as Dean of Arts at the University of Kelaniya and founded its Postgraduate Institute of Pali and Buddhist Studies. The nation honoured him with Sri Lanka Sikhamani in 2005.
Yet his true gift was teaching. He once said he loved students who knew nothing about Buddhism. “It’s more adventurous,” he explained. “For those already exposed, it’s not so fascinating. In a way, it’s easier because they carry no prejudices.” He taught at SOAS, Toronto, Calgary, and Hong Kong, but he always returned to Sri Lanka – because, he said, “the Dhamma lives best where the language of the texts is still spoken.”
What exactly made his scholarship so special? Before Karunadasa, Western, and even some Asian scholars, often dismissed Abhidhamma as dry scholasticism – a medieval invention far from the Buddha’s original words. Karunadasa spent four decades proving otherwise. He showed that Abhidhamma is not a later corruption but a natural extension of the early suttas. His analysis of sabhāva (intrinsic nature) was revolutionary: he demonstrated that the Abhidhamma schools never posited eternal substances, only conditioned, momentary realities. In doing so, he rescued the entire Abhidhamma tradition from the charge of being “proto‑Hindu” or essentialist. Philosophers in London and Chicago began citing him alongside Western phenomenologists. Yet he never lost his Sri Lankan accent or his habit of drinking plain black tea while discussing citta and cetasika.
His most profound contribution was to Abhidhamma, the analytical heart of the Buddha’s teaching. Western scholars often dismissed Abhidhamma as dry scholasticism. Karunadasa showed it was a living philosophy of mind and matter, free from eternalism and nihilism. He argued that the Buddha’s refusal to posit a permanent self was not a mere negation but an invitation to see reality as a process – a stream of conditioned moments, luminous and awake.
What made him rare was his humility. He never claimed to be a meditation master or a saint. He was a reader of texts, a lover of words, a man who believed that truth shines brightest when pointed at, not possessed. “I present what I find,” he said. “Whether one decides to accept it is an individual matter.”
I recall a small story that students often told. Once, a young monk asked him after a lecture, “Venerable Professor, after all this analysis, does the self exist or not?” Karunadasa smiled. “That question,” he said, “is like asking whether the flame in this oil lamp is the same as the flame a moment ago. The Buddha’s answer is neither ‘yes’ nor ‘no’ but ‘it is not proper to say so.’ Learn to live with the question, and you will be freer than any philosopher who claims to have an answer.”
Students remember him not for grand speeches but for small kindnesses – a patient explanation of a Pali compound, a gentle nod when a young scholar stammered through a seminar. He never raised his voice. He never needed to.
The Buddha once said that the Dhamma is like a finger pointing to the moon. Do not stare at the finger, he warned. Professor Karunadasa spent a lifetime perfecting that finger – polishing it, straightening it, making sure it pointed true. We may now look at the moon and remember the hand that showed us where to turn.
May his passing be his final lesson: that even the greatest scholar must one day let go. And in that letting go, become the silence from which all teaching first arose.
May he attain the supreme bliss of Nibbana!
Dedicated to the memory of a teacher who never stopped learning.
K.L. Senarath Dayathilake
Opinion
Fiscal discipline, institutional accountability, and contemporary governance challenges
Sri Lanka is currently facing a complex set of interrelated economic, social, and governance challenges that cannot be attributed to a single policy failure or institutional weakness. Rather, these challenges reflect deeper structural issues that have evolved over time and now manifest as systemic constraints on economic stability and effective governance.
The key issues at the centre the current debate include fiscal discipline, the role of the Central Bank and the Ministry of Finance, governance challenges, the experience of public administration, and the capacity for effective policy implementation.
This short paper aims to lay the foundation for this discussion by initiating a focused and structured dialogue on these critical issues.
Fiscal Discipline: Current Status and Core Challenges
Fiscal discipline refers to the government’s ability to maintain a balance between its revenue and expenditure. It is a fundamental requirement for macroeconomic stability. However, an assessment of Sri Lanka’s current situation indicates that this balance remains significantly weakened.
Over the past three decades, government revenue as a share of GDP has steadily declined. From approximately 18–20 percent in the 1990s, it fell to nearly 9 percent in the early 2020s. While recent tax reforms have contributed to a gradual recovery, government expenditure has remained persistently high at around 20–25 percent of GDP. This imbalance has resulted in sustained budget deficits and a significant accumulation of public debt.
Within this context, constrained revenue growth and structural weaknesses in expenditure management have emerged as key factors shaping the country’s long-term fiscal outlook.
In 2024, tax revenue increased to 12.4 percent of GDP, up from 9.9 percent in 2023, and is projected to reach 14.8 percent in 2025. While this reflects a positive trend, it remains insufficient to ensure fiscal sustainability.
Expanding the tax base, strengthening tax compliance, and rationalising tax exemptions remain critical priorities. However, these efforts are constrained by structural factors, including the large size of the informal economy, weak income reporting mechanisms, and low levels of formalsation among small and medium-sized enterprises.
In addition, the heavy reliance on indirect taxation represents a structural imbalance. Currently, around 70–75 percent of total tax revenue is derived from indirect taxes, while direct taxes account for only about 25–30 percent. Among these, Value Added Tax (VAT) contributes a disproportionately large share, whereas income and corporate taxes remain relatively limited. Such a structure has implications not only for revenue stability but also for income distribution.
Tax administration continues to face operational challenges, including limited administrative capacity, technological constraints, weak enforcement, and persistent issues of tax evasion and avoidance.
Therefore, despite recent improvements in revenue performance, deeper structural reforms in the tax system are essential—particularly increasing the share of direct taxation and broadening the overall tax base.
The expenditure side presents equally significant challenges. According to the 2025 budget, government expenditure is estimated at around 21.8 percent of GDP, while revenue stands at approximately 15.1 percent. This reflects a substantial and persistent fiscal gap, the closure of which requires difficult and often politically sensitive policy choices, including borrowing, revenue enhancement, or expenditure rationalisation.
A particularly pressing concern is debt servicing. According to the World Bank, nearly half of government revenue between 2024 and 2027 may be absorbed by interest payments. This represents a significant fiscal risk. If a large share of public revenue is allocated to debt servicing, the fiscal space available for education, healthcare, social protection, and productive investment becomes severely constrained.
Public debt management therefore remains highly vulnerable. Although debt restructuring efforts have been undertaken, their long-term success depends critically on sustained fiscal discipline. Without this, debt sustainability risks re-emerging as a major macroeconomic concern.
The financial performance of state-owned enterprises further compounds these challenges. In 2024, 52 major state institutions reported combined losses exceeding LKR 150 billion. Key entities such as the Ceylon Electricity Board, Ceylon Petroleum Corporation, SriLankan Airlines, and the Sri Lanka Transport Board continue to exert pressure on public finances. Notably, in the first half of 2025 alone, the Ceylon Electricity Board recorded a loss of LKR 13.2 billion.
Taken together, the challenge of fiscal discipline is not isolated. It reflects a broader structural imbalance arising from weak revenue performance, ineffective expenditure control, high debt burdens, rising debt servicing obligations, and persistent losses in state-owned enterprises.
Accordingly, addressing these challenges requires more than incremental adjustments. It calls for a comprehensive and sustained restructuring of public financial management to restore long-term fiscal stability.
The Central Bank and the Ministry of Finance: Roles and Performance
Against this fiscal backdrop, the role and effectiveness of key economic institutions become critically important. The Central Bank and the Ministry of Finance are the two principal institutions responsible for macroeconomic management in Sri Lanka. The Central Bank is tasked with maintaining price stability and financial system stability through monetary policy, while the Ministry of Finance is responsible for the design and implementation of fiscal policy.
In recent years, the Central Bank has adopted a tight monetary policy stance to contain inflation. This represents a necessary and positive adjustment. However, a key concern lies in the clarity, consistency, and credibility of policy communication. When markets, investors, and the public do not receive clear and predictable signals regarding the future direction of policy, an uncertain environment emerges. Under such conditions, investment decisions are often delayed, market volatility increases, and overall economic confidence weakens.
With regard to the Ministry of Finance, the central issue is the gap between policy intent and effective implementation. While targets have been set to increase tax revenue, progress in broadening the tax base and strengthening compliance remains limited. This reflects not only technical challenges but also deeper institutional constraints.
Another critical area is the reform of state-owned enterprises. Although policy intentions and reform frameworks have been articulated, implementation has been slow and uneven. This delay imposes an additional burden on fiscal discipline, as continued losses in these institutions ultimately translate into increased public expenditure and fiscal pressure.
At the same time, the International Monetary Fund has emphasised, particularly in the context of the 2026 budget, the need for stronger revenue mobilization, disciplined expenditure management, improved tax compliance, and enhanced public financial management. These recommendations reinforce the urgency of institutional strengthening.
It would be overly simplistic to conclude that these institutions have entirely failed in their mandates. However, it is evident that they have not yet achieved the expected levels of efficiency, coordination, and transparency required under current economic conditions.
A key structural weakness lies in the limited coordination between monetary and fiscal policy. When these two policy domains are not aligned, their outcomes can be mutually undermining. For example, while the Central Bank may pursue tight monetary policy to control inflation, expansionary fiscal policies or excessive government spending can offset these efforts.
Going forward, strengthening institutional effectiveness requires more than clarifying mandates. It demands improved policy coordination, stronger implementation capacity, and more transparent and credible communication. These elements are essential to restoring confidence among markets, investors, and the public.
Governance Challenges and the Experience Gap: Reality and Limits
Beyond institutional performance, governance capacity itself remains a central concern. One of the most prominent criticisms directed at the current administration is the perceived lack of experience in public governance. This concern cannot be entirely dismissed. A governing team with limited experience may face significant challenges in managing the complexity of the state apparatus, fiscal risks, international commitments, and institutional processes.
However, it is insufficient to interpret this issue solely as an individual limitation. It must also be understood as a systemic challenge. In the presence of a strong advisory framework, data-driven decision-making processes, and effective coordination within a professional public service, the impact of limited experience can be mitigated to a considerable extent.
Conversely, when such institutional mechanisms are weak, the absence of experience can have more pronounced consequences. These may include delays in decision-making, misalignment of policy priorities, and increased policy instability. In such an environment, governance becomes more uncertain, and institutional trust tends to erode.
Therefore, the issue cannot be adequately captured by simply referring to a “lack of experience.” The more fundamental challenge lies in the interaction between limited experience, institutional weaknesses, and deficiencies in decision-making frameworks.
This perspective is reinforced by an observation shared in response to this discussion:
“The appointment of underqualified individuals and political appointees to senior positions in the Treasury and the Ministry of Finance can significantly contribute to such challenges. In the past, many of these roles were held by experienced senior public servants and capable economists, who possessed a deep understanding of public financial policy and governance.
It is not sufficient to characterise such issues merely as a ‘cyber incident.’ They should also be understood as manifestations of deeper systemic gaps. Accordingly, the government must identify and decisively address these gaps. However, there is limited evidence of such preparedness at present.”
This view underscores the need to assess governance challenges not only at the level of individuals, but also at the institutional and systemic levels.
Accordingly, a sustainable long-term response requires strengthening professionalism within the public sector, ensuring greater transparency and meritocracy in appointments, and institutionalizing more structured and evidence-based decision-making processes.
Priority Reforms for Immediate Action
Addressing the challenges outlined above requires a set of coordinated and decisive reforms. These actions are not optional; they are essential to restoring fiscal stability and rebuilding public confidence.
First, public expenditure must be realigned based on clear strategic priorities. Resources should be redirected away from politically popular but low-impact spending toward areas that support economic growth, strengthen human capital, and enhance social protection.
Second, the tax system must be simplified, made more equitable, and significantly broadened. Rather than increasing the burden on a narrow base of existing taxpayers, policy efforts should focus on expanding the tax base, strengthening compliance, and improving the efficiency of tax administration.
Third, reforms of state-owned enterprises must be accelerated without delay. The continued reliance on public funds to sustain loss-making institutions is fiscally unsustainable. Comprehensive restructuring is required, including improvements in governance, pricing mechanisms, operational efficiency, and accountability frameworks.
Fourth, transparency must be strengthened as a core principle of public financial management. Timely and credible disclosure of fiscal data—including debt positions, the financial performance of state-owned enterprises, and progress on reform implementation—is essential to building trust and ensuring accountability.
Finally, accountability mechanisms must be reinforced. Clear responsibility must be assigned for policy decisions, and outcomes must be systematically monitored and evaluated. Sustainable improvements in governance depend on the consistent application of accountability.
In conclusion, Sri Lanka’s current economic and governance challenges cannot be attributed to a single cause. They reflect a broader systemic imbalance arising from weak fiscal discipline, institutional limitations, communication gaps, shortcomings in policy implementation, and constraints in governance capacity.
An economy is not merely a collection of numbers; it is fundamentally a system built on trust. Rebuilding that trust is not optional—it is essential. It requires immediate and credible action to strengthen fiscal discipline, institutional accountability, transparency, and policy consistency.
This remains the defining challenge facing the current administration.
by Prof. Ranjith Bandara
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