Features

Cops, criminals, and cultural contours

Published

4 years ago

2021/10/16

By Uditha Devapriya

In Michael Mann’s Heat, one of the best heist thrillers ever made, the protagonist is a cop called Hanna, played by Al Pacino. The other character, a thief called McCauley, is played by Robert de Niro. Hanna and McCauley meet for the first time at the end of the first half of the movie. Hanna, who works for the LAPD, has been investigating a series of high-profile crimes for days. He guesses McCauley is the culprit, but has no real proof.

Convinced that he is the man they are looking for, Hanna tails him one night and gets him to pull over. Instead of arresting him, though, he offers to buy McCauley coffee. They then go over to a diner, where the two of them sit in front of each other.

What unfolds thereafter is not a conversation, but a charade. The detective and the thief start talking at cross-purposes. Weary, numbed, and tempered by the weight of their work, they engage in casual banter. Like countless conversations from a Jean-Luc Godard film, this doesn’t make sense; they ramble on and on, and then suddenly stop.

It is when we step back and reflect on these two that we realise what the scene is trying to tell us: the detective has come to a point in his career where he depends on the thieves he tails. It’s the same story with the other guy: he’s been involved in so many crimes that he’s almost relieved to talk to a man of the law. Their meeting is thus marked out less by hostility than by empathy. It’s a meeting of the minds.

The face-off is intriguing to me because it reminds me of a similar conversation from a film made 25 years earlier, in Sri Lanka. D. B. Nihalsinghe’s Welikathara also pits a police-officer against a criminal, this time a drug kingpin. In the scene I am talking about, that officer, like Al Pacino’s detective, encounters the kingpin in full form at his office. By this point each of them has realised what the other wants: like the lawyer and his ex-client in Cape Fear, each knows only too well that the other is seeking the upper hand.

The sequence at the police station establishes this relationship. As one salty witticism gives way to another, we sense the revulsion underlying the conversation; the two are talking at cross-purposes, only barely concealing their contempt for each other.

Yet while the scene serves a different function from the diner episode in Heat – whereas the latter sequence shows how dependent the cop has become on the thief, here it reveals the hostility between the two men – it stands out almost like the other does. That has much to do, I think, with the acting: neither Al Pacino nor Robert de Niro had made much of a name for themselves when Welikathara came out, but seeing Gamini Fonseka play the cop and Joe Abeywickrama the criminal, you do tend to compare. To make such a comparison is to acknowledge that Welikathara represented a high point for our cinema.

Welikathara

may well be the most Americanised Sinhala film ever made. Whereas most Sinhala films had been distinctly continental until then, hardly any director had ventured into Hollywood territory. What makes Nihalsinghe’s film fascinating, in that sense, is how far he conceived its story along the lines of a typical American thriller.

My interest in the movie as a critic, however, has less to do with its cinematic merit than the spotlight it throws on an era when such cosmopolitan objets d’art were more the norm than the exception. Since this year marks the 50th anniversary of Nihalsinghe’s film, I felt it apt to ponder why, from achieving such heights then, we have slid down so badly now.

Perhaps it’s best that we restate the problem: how could the kind of acting exemplified in a movie like Heat become the norm there today, whereas the sort exemplified in Welikathara has turned out to be the dismal exception here? I am not just suggesting that our art forms have deteriorated in quality – though this is exactly what has happened – but that there are many reasons that can explain such a decline. Where have our arts gone? Why hasn’t it still realised its potential? What can revive it? Who can revive it?

The importance of these questions cannot be emphasised enough. A society’s popular culture is a fairly accurate gauge of its intellectual achievements. It is true that this remains a function of economic position; hence rich countries have more potential for high cultural achievements, whereas poorer countries do not. Yet that is not necessarily the case all the time: the Indian film industry, to give one example, is considerably more diverse, and much richer, than its counterparts in countries like Singapore.

India is a case in point for the view that the greater the size of the population, the more sophisticated a country’s popular culture will be. But that also is not always the case: as the recent resurgence in African cinema shows, a big population does not in itself contribute to the upliftment of a culture to the exclusion of more pertinent factors.

This is not to say that issues of economic development or population are secondary to those other factors. Affluent countries can afford superior works of art, while poorer countries (of which India is a prime example) are able to do so with a public that patronises commercial works of art, which helps subsidise more serious ventures. In that sense, the US enjoys the twin advantage of a powerful economy and a large audience.

But to acknowledge these points is not to deny the relevance of other reasons for the growth or decline of artistic standards. In Sri Lanka’s case, any attempt at diagnosing the problems of its culture must hence start from an appraisal of the post-1980 decline in the arts: a phenomenon reducible to neither economics nor demographics.

Three schools of thought have attempted to explain this decline. The first school views 1956 as the reason: by empowering everyone to enter our schools and universities, so their logic goes, cultural and artistic standards were compromised. That is another way of saying that if schools and universities remained shut to poorer classes, those standards would have been protected and fostered by an elite minority.

The second school argues that with the advent of economic liberalisation in 1978, the government’s hold over artistic quality was loosened, thereby debasing cultural yardsticks, transforming lowbrow into middlebrow art, and raising the latter to the status of highbrow art. To invert Marx’s dictum, what was once profane now became sacred.

I personally think this argument holds more water than the first – not least because the first school tries to frame 1956 as avoidable, which it was not, and fails to distinguish between its progressive and regressive aspects, which should not be done – but it does not explain a point the third school dwells on: the debasement of our education system because of, and paradoxically in spite of, various reforms enacted after 1956.

This is where the line between the progressive and regressive aspects of what transpired that year must be drawn: though there was a need to democratise schools and universities and they were democratised, barring crucial reforms in the second Sirimavo Bandaranaike government (pioneered by a set of brilliant educationists and scholars like Neil Kuruppu and Douglas Walatara) no attempts were made to maintain quality in them.

The results are there for all to see today: while certain schools and universities produce better thinkers than others, one does not come across such thinkers as often as one would want. That these trends have spilled over to the performing arts is a no-brainer: we don’t produce original artists too often either. “Manike Mage Hithe” offers the promise of what Sri Lanka’s popular culture should be, but such ventures are rare.

The third school consolidates the arguments of the first and the second: it acknowledges concerns over the negative aftershocks of 1956, as the first school does, while tracing the trajectory of cultural decline to the period after 1980, when the abandonment of the United Front education reforms multiplied those aftershocks, as the second school does.

Any critique of the country’s less than brilliant cultural scene today should take into account these factors when proposing viable solutions. In particular, it should identify exactly quality has come down and how best we can go about improving it.

It is fashionable to say that Sri Lanka’s cultural standards remained high until 1956. To me though, this is a deeply fallacious argument: a comprador society, which is what prevailed before 1956, does not produce a genuine culture. A culture must dig deep in search of roots. The problem is not that such a search stunted artistic development in the country, as those who idealise the pre-1956 status quo think, but rather that it did not go deep enough. That paved way for a massive flaw in our education system: the delinking of the performing arts from their literary roots, slowly since 1956 and more rapidly since 1980.

What I am arguing here is that as actors, directors, and even scriptwriters, we don’t read as much as we used to. In saying that, I am not denying there are other problems we have to look into with respect to Sri Lanka’s popular culture. But as the central issue, this problem requires immediate resolution. The sooner we realise our priorities there, the sooner we will be able to address a deplorable, though no less reversible, decline in artistic standards. All it takes to confirm the reality of such a decline, of course, is to see Welikathara, see Heat, and then ask why we used to have it so good, and how far back we have fallen today.

The writer can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com

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Features

Mannar’s silent skies: Migratory Flamingos fall victim to power lines amid Wind Farm dispute

Published

3 hours ago

2026/03/26

Sahan Weerasooriya

Victims: Flamingos / Birds found dead in Mannar

By Ifham Nizam

A fresh wave of concern has gripped conservationists following the reported deaths of migratory flamingos within the Vankalai Sanctuary—a globally recognised bird habitat—raising urgent questions about the ecological cost of large-scale renewable energy projects in the region.

The incident comes at a time when a fundamental rights petition, challenging the proposed wind power project, linked to India’s Adani Group, remains under examination before the Supreme Court, with environmental groups warning that the very risks they highlighted are now materialising.

At least two flamingos—believed to be part of the iconic migratory flocks that travel thousands of kilometres to reach Sri Lanka—were found dead after entanglement with high-tension transmission lines running across the sanctuary. Another bird was reportedly struggling for survival.

Professor Sampath Seneviratne, a leading ornithologist, expressed deep concern over the development, noting that such incidents are not isolated but indicative of a broader and predictable threat.

“These migratory birds depend on specific flyways that have remained unchanged for centuries. When high-risk infrastructure, like poorly planned power lines, intersect these routes, collisions become inevitable,” he said. “What we are witnessing now could be just the beginning if proper mitigation measures are not urgently implemented.”

Environmentalists argue that the Mannar region—particularly the Vankalai wetland complex—is one of the most critical stopover sites in South Asia for migratory waterbirds, including flamingos, pelicans, and various species of waders. The sanctuary’s ecological value has also supported a niche with growing eco-tourism sector, drawing birdwatchers from around the world.

Executive Director of the Centre for Environmental Justice, Dilena Pathragoda, said the incident underscores the urgency of judicial intervention and stricter environmental oversight.

“This tragedy is a direct consequence of ignoring scientifically established environmental safeguards. We have already raised these concerns before court, particularly regarding the location of transmission infrastructure within sensitive bird habitats,” Pathragoda said.

“Renewable energy cannot be pursued in isolation from ecological responsibility. If due process and proper environmental impact assessments are bypassed or diluted, then such losses are inevitable.”

Conservation groups have long cautioned that the installation of wind turbines and associated grid infrastructure—especially overhead transmission lines—within or near sensitive habitats could transform these landscapes into lethal zones for avifauna.

An environmental activist involved in the ongoing legal challenge said the latest deaths validate earlier warnings.

“This is exactly what we feared. Development is necessary, but not at the cost of biodiversity. When projects of this scale proceed without adequate ecological assessments and safeguards, the consequences are irreversible,” the activist stressed.

The debate has once again brought into focus the delicate balance between renewable energy expansion and biodiversity conservation. While wind energy is widely promoted as a clean alternative to fossil fuels, experts caution that “green” does not automatically mean “harmless.”

Professor Seneviratne emphasised that solutions do exist, including rerouting transmission lines, installing bird diverters, and conducting comprehensive migratory pathway studies prior to project approval.

“Globally, there are well-established mitigation strategies. The issue here is not the absence of knowledge, but the failure to apply it effectively,” he noted.

The timing of the incident is particularly worrying. Migratory flamingos typically remain in Sri Lanka until late April or May before embarking on their return journeys. Conservationists warn that if hazards remain unaddressed, larger flocks could face similar risks in the coming weeks.

Beyond ecological implications, experts also highlight potential economic fallout. Wildlife tourism—especially birdwatching—contributes significantly to local livelihoods in Mannar.

Repeated reports of bird deaths could deter eco-conscious travellers and damage the region’s reputation as a safe haven for migratory species.

Environmentalists are now calling for immediate intervention by authorities, including a temporary halt to high-risk operations in sensitive zones, pending a thorough environmental review.

They stress that protecting animal movement corridors—whether elephant migration routes or avian flyways—is a fundamental pillar of modern conservation.

As the controversy unfolds, one question looms large: can Sri Lanka pursue sustainable energy without sacrificing the very natural heritage that defines it?

Pathragoda added that for now, the sight of fallen flamingos in Mannar stands as a stark reminder that development, if not carefully planned, can carry a heavy and irreversible cost.

Features

‘Weaponizing’ religion in the pursuit of power

Published

3 hours ago

2026/03/26

Sahan Weerasooriya

President Donald Trump; miscalculating in M-E / Ayatollah Khomeini; Architect of Iranian Revolution

A picture of US President Donald Trump apparently being prayed for by supporters, appearing in sections of the international media, said it all loud and clear. That is, religion is being flagrantly leveraged or prostituted by politicians single-mindedly bent on furthering their power aspirations.

Although in the case of the US President the trend took on may be an exceptionally graphic or dramatic form, the ‘weaponizing’ of religion is nothing particularly new, nor is it confined to only religiously conservative sections of the West. For example, in South Asia it is an integral part of politics. The ‘South Asian Eight’ are notorious for it and it could be unreservedly stated that in Sri Lanka, the latter’s ethnic conflict would be more amenable to resolution if religion was not made a potent weapon by ambitious politicians of particularly the country’s South.

The more enlightened sections of Christian believers in the US may not have been able to contain their consternation at the sight of the US President apparently being ‘blessed’ by pastors claiming adherence to Christianity. Any human is entitled to be blessed but not if he is leading his country to war without exhausting all the options at his disposal to end the relevant conflict by peaceful means.

More compounded would be his problem if his directives lead to the death of civilians in the hundreds. In the latter case he is stringently accountable for the spilling of civilian blood, that is, the committing of war crimes.

However, the US along with Israel did just that in the recent bombings of Iran, for instance. The majority of the lives lost were those of civilians. If the US President is endowed with a Christian conscience he would have paused to consider that he is guilty of ordering the taking of the life of another human which is forbidden in the teachings of Jesus Christ.

Moreover, the ‘pastors’ praying over the US President should have thought on the above lines as well. May be they were in an effort to curry the President’s favour which is as blame-worthy as legitimizing in some form the taking of civilian lives. Apparently, the realisation is not dawning on all Christian conservatives of the US that some of these ‘pastors’ could very well be the proverbial false prophets and the latter are almost everywhere, even in far distant Sri Lanka.

However, the political reality ‘on the ground’ is that the Christian Right is a stable support base of the Republican Right in the US. Considering this it should not come as a surprise to the seasoned political watcher if the Christian Right, read Christian fundamentalists, are hand-in-glove, so to speak, with President Trump. But it is a scathing indictment on these rightist sections that they are all for perpetrating war and destruction and not for the fostering of peace and reconciliation. Ideally, they should have impressed on their President the dire need to make peace.

That said, political commentators should consider it incumbent on themselves to point out that religion is being ‘weaponized’ in Iran as well. Theocratic rule in Iran has been essentially all about perpetuating the power of the clerical class. The reasons that led to the Islamic Revolution in Iran are complex and the indiscreet Westernization of Iran under the Shah dynasty is one of these but one would have expected Iran to develop from then on into a multi-party, pluralistic democratic state where people would be enjoying their fundamental rights, as enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, for example.

Moreover, Iran should have taken it upon itself to be a champion of world peace, in keeping with its Islamic credentials. But some past regimes in Iran had vowed to virtually bomb Israel out of existence and such regional policy trajectories could only bring perpetual conflict and war. Considering the current state of the Middle East it could be said that the unfettered playing out of these animosities is leading the region and the world to ‘reap the whirlwind’, having recklessly ‘sowed the wind’.

However, religious fundamentalism-inspired conflict and war has spread well beyond the Middle East into almost every region since 1979, the year of the Islamic Revolution in Iran. So much so, knowledgeable opinion now points out that religious identity has come to replace nationalism as a principal shaper of international politics or “geopolitics”, as quite a few sections misleadingly and incorrectly term it.

Elaborating on the decisive influence of religious identity, the well known and far traveled Western journalist Patrick Cockburn says in his authoritative and comprehensive book titled, ‘The Age of Jihad – Islamic State and the Great War for the Middle East’ at page 428 in connection with the war in Chechnya ; ‘If nationalism was not entirely dead, it no longer provided the ideological glue necessary to hold together and motivate people who were fighting a war. Unlike the Islamic faith, it was no longer a belief or a badge of identity for which people would fight very hard.’ (The book in reference was published by VERSO, London and New York).

In his wide coverage of Jihadist Wars the world over Cockburn goes on to state that today a call from a cleric could motivate his followers to lay down no less than their lives for a cause championed by the former. The 9/11 catastrophe alone should convince the observer that this is indeed true.

However, as often pointed out in this column, there is no alternative but to foster peace and reconciliation if a world free of bloodshed and strife is what is being sought. Fortunately we are not short of illustrious persons from the East and West who have shone a light on how best to get to a degree of peace. Besides Mahatma Gandhi of India, who was the subject of this column last week, we have former President of Iran Mohammad Khatami, who made a case for a ‘Dialogue of Civilizations’ rather than a ‘Clash of Civilizations’.

The time is more than ripe to take a leaf from these illustrious personalities, for, the current state of war in the Middle East has raised the possibility of a war that could transcend regional boundaries. The antagonists are obliged to exhaust all the peaceful options with the assistance of the UN system. Besides, war cannot ever have the blessings of the sane.

Features

Venerable Rahula Thera’s 35-year green mission and national Namal Uyana

Published

3 hours ago

2026/03/26

Sahan Weerasooriya

Venerable Rahula Thera

It was 35 years ago, on March 28, 1991, that Venerable Rahula Thera, then a young monk, embarked on a journey to the Na forest in Ulpathagama, Palagama, in the Anuradhapura District. Today, three and a half decades later, this mission stands as living proof of the enduring bond between Buddhist philosophy and the natural world.

Marking the 35th year of this green mission, Rahula Thera’s relentless dedication has transformed the National Namal Uyana into an environmental landmark admired not only across Sri Lanka but around the globe, as well.

When studying the life of Venerable Rahula Thera, one cannot ignore the profound connection between Buddhism and the environment. Buddhism is a philosophy deeply attuned to nature. The historical use of the sacred “Na Ruka” by all four Buddhas: Mangala Buddha, Sumana Buddha, Revata Buddha, and Sobhita Buddha — for enlightenment —demonstrates that from time immemorial, Buddhism has maintained a sacred bond with the Na tree. From the birth of Siddhartha to his enlightenment, the propagation of the Dharma, and even the great Parinirvana, all of these milestones unfolded in verdant, living landscapes.

Venerable Rahula Thera did not embark on the Namal Uyana mission seeking government support or personal gain. His commitment sprang from a deep devotion to the Buddha’s teachings on grove cultivation. A grove cultivator is one who spreads compassion for nature. As the Vanaropa Sutta teaches:

Venerable Rahula Thera reclaimed Namal Uyana which was then under the control of timber smugglers and treasure hunters. The term “Wanawasi” does not merely mean living in a forest; it signifies finding rest and enlightenment through nature, free from the destructive roots of greed, sin, and delusion.

Another defining aspect of Venerable Rahula Thera’s 35-year mission is the purification of the human mind. He has consistently taught the thousands who visit Namal Uyana that a person who loves a tree will never harm another human being. As the Dhamma proclaims:

It is important to remember that Venerable Rahula Thera devoted his life, without fear, speaking the truth and taking necessary action, tirelessly advancing the national mission he began. From 1991 to the present, he has worked with every government elected by the people, maintaining impartiality and independence from political ideology. Yet, he never hesitated to raise his voice fearlessly against any individual, of any rank or party, who committed wrongdoing.

Religious and Social Mission

The National Namal Uyana is not merely a forest; it is a magnificent heritage site, dating back to ancient times. Scattered across the landscape are boundary walls, the remains of ancient monastery complexes, and stone carvings believed to date back to the reign of King Devanampiyatissa. In earlier centuries, this sacred land had served as a meditation sanctuary for hundreds of monks. The name “National Namal Uyana,” by which this ecological and archaeological treasure is known today, was introduced by Venerable Rahula Thera in 1991. The government’s later recognition of the site as the National Namal Uyana stands as a significant achievement for both religion and national heritage.

Venerable Rahula Thera is a monk who has lived a life of renunciation. A striking example of this is his decision not to assume the position of Chief Incumbent of the National Namal Uyana Viharaya, instead entrusting the temple to the Ramanna Nikaya and its trustees. In doing so, he set a precedent for the contemporary Sangha. The Thera himself stated that he was merely the trustee of Namal Uyana, not its owner.

Legacy and Continuing Inspiration

The 35th anniversary of Venerable Wanawasi Rahula Thera’s arrival at Namal Uyana is not merely the commemoration of a period of time; it is a message of nature to future generations. Through his work, the Thera revived the ancient Hela tradition of loving trees and venerating the environment as something sacred. This religious and environmental mission remains unforgettable.

The revival experienced by Namal Uyana, after the arrival of Venerable Wanawasi Rahula Thera, is beyond simple description. Some of the major accomplishments achieved under his leadership include:

* Securing and protecting the largest Rose Quartz (Rosa Thirivana) reserve in South Asia.

* Restoring the Na forest spread across hundreds of acres, providing shelter to numerous rare plants and animal species.

* Transforming the area into a living centre for environmental education, offering practical learning experiences for thousands of schoolchildren and university students.

* Drawing the attention of world leaders and international environmentalists to Sri Lanka’s unique environmental heritage.

In recognition of his immense contribution to environmental conservation, Venerable Rahula Thera was honoured with the Presidential Environment Award and the Green Award in 2004—a significant moment in his life. Yet the Thera himself has always remained devoted to the work rather than the recognition it brings, making such appreciation even more meaningful.