Features
Cultures of conformity: Disciplining minds and bodies
By Harshana Rambukwella
In Gunadasa Amarasekara’s novel Inimage Ihalata (Up the Ladder), Piyadasa – a young undergraduate from a rural background – has an epiphany while watching the daily deva puja at Katharagama. Initially attracted to the pulsating rhythm of the dancers he feels a strong erotic impulse. But within moments he experiences a sense of guilt and turns away from the scene and proceeds to the kiri wehera – the Buddhist Stupa which is part of the Katharagama complex, where he tries to sublimate the desire he felt. Reflecting on this incident Piyadasa wonders why his uncle Bala Mahattaya, who was with him, does not share the same emotions. Piyadasa’s somewhat trite conclusion is that it was his education and exposure to texts such as Lady Chatterley’s Lover that caused this reaction while Bala Mahattaya – an obvious organic rural foil to Piyadasa – is immune due to his lack of education. Most of Amarasekara’s later work – after he wrote novels like Karumakkarayo and Deppa Noladdo which explored sexually daring themes – have these moralistic undertones. There is also a certain crudeness to how Amarasekara stages a conflict between what he sees as corruptive ‘western’ values and a romanticised notion of pastoral Sinhala identity.
Why did I begin with this anecdote from Gunadasa Amarasekara’s fiction? I believe this anecdote speaks to a deep-seated problem in Sri Lankan society – particularly within what we might call the ‘middle classes’ – and how education has also been a site in which this problem is reproduced. However, the problem I refer to is not a Victorian attitude towards sexuality per se but a more general problem with conformity. When Piyadasa thinks he has been ‘corrupted’ by western values he is in effect enacting an act of cultural conformity that Amarasekara replicated in real life – where he essentially recanted his earlier work following public criticism by Martin Wickramasinghe. Wickramasinghe accused Amarasekara of distorting rural Sinhala culture and Amarasekara subsequently began to craft his fiction to fit a perceived conformist cultural script.
I was reminded of Amarasekara’s fiction when news broke of an incident where a student couple embracing in front of the Senate building at the University of Peradeniya were physically and verbally censured. In a country where expressions of public affection are frowned upon, these ideas seem to be even more entrenched within the university – a space one would like to imagine as more ‘progressive’. This intolerance has even extended to artistic performances when an on-stage kiss in a drama production in 2016 at the famous wala in Peradeniya resulted in the performance having to be abandoned. This culture of intolerance also takes a much more insidious form through ragging where physical and psychological suffering is inflicted upon students. Ragging has essentially become a method through which a culture of cultural and political conformity is enforced. However, we are also confronted with a seeming paradox. In the same university there are regular student protests against institutional overreach, the political culture of the country and even national economic issues. Most of these protests are often mobilised by student unions, which also played a critical role during last year’s aragalaya. But perhaps there is no paradox because it is the very same culture of conformity that is enforced within the university that makes the student body such a potent collective political force. However, this comes at significant social cost, and this is why such cultures of conformity need to be resisted and contested.
At one level we have a culture within the university where student’s bodies and minds are forcefully disciplined. Especially when you first enter university an enforced dress code, codes of docile behaviour and modes of addressing ‘seniors’ are enacted with force. This is damaging to the personalities of new students. Many students have experienced different culture of conformity – possibly within their homes, in their schools and perhaps in society as a whole. Therefore, when confronted with another regime of conformity at university the students tend to adapt to it with little resistance. So, there are contradictory forces at play. On the one hand the students are forced to adapt to a general culture of conformity but this conformity in turn is used to mobilise them as a collective force to challenge the general political and status quo – the students rarely question the power structures within the university but are ardent critiques of power structures in society at large. Individual liberty and freedom of choice is curtailed, ostensibly in the service of a greater collective ‘good’. In a country with a long and insidious history of nationalist conformity both within the Sinhala and Tamil communities this kind of collective mobilisation – even when it might be seen to serve a greater ‘good’ – is damaging and contributes little to social progress.
Another factor that compounds this collective culture of conformity is the culture of the university as an institution. Rather than foster critical and independent thinking, at multiple levels the institutional practices themselves breed conformity. Within the classroom, it is often the teacher’s views that are dominant and in assessments, students instinctively know, that reproducing the teacher’s ideology is likely to earn them better grades. This in turn generates a culture of intellectual conformity that is layered on top of the conformist cultures students experience in student politics and student life. This is of course not to suggest that all students or even all student groups passively submit to this culture but this appears to be the general habitus of university life. The kind of pedagogical conformity I discussed above – in terms of how teaching and learning happens – can also unfortunately extend to what teachers expect of their students. Many teachers, while they may speak of the importance of critical and independent thinking, rarely provide a space within the classroom that inspires this kind of independence – rather much of their teaching practice indirectly reinforces conformity.
Moving from the teaching and learning aspect of the institution to institutional culture as a whole, it seems to me that the university administration also prefers conformity. For instance, some university administrators infantilise students through the use of terms such as putha or duwa (son or daughter) which at first sight are terms of affection and endearment but in reality are highly condescending forms of address to youth who are legal adults. A further manifestation is how students stand when a teacher enters a classroom – never openly articulated or demanded by teachers but an unwritten code that reinforces teacher-student hierarchy. The kissing incident I referenced above, ironically was a rare moment when institutional discourses of conformity converged with those of the majority student body.
However, the same institution which attempts to infantilize students can go from being benign to violent rapidly and call upon state repression to discipline students. Some universities further instill such behaviors of conformity through institutional rituals – such as the playing of the national anthem during working hours and the expectation that staff and students pay ‘respect’ to the anthem regardless of what they are doing – a somewhat new form of nationalist conformity that emerged in recent years in many public institutions in Sri Lanka.
It seems to me, therefore, that conformity is reinforced from multiple sources and directions. The school system in Sri Lanka is highly discipline-oriented and attempts to discipline what it sees as unruly bodies and minds of students from the moment they begin schooling. Many students experience such practices in their home environment (especially in middle class homes) and therefore in turn find school to be an extension of their lived experience, rather than a place that can emancipate them. This tragedy is compounded when they enter university which is supposed to be a liberal and progressive space. There is, therefore, an urgent need to critically reflect on how we can address the problem of how to challenge such cultures conformity. There is no easy or short-term fix for a problem of this nature. Perhaps the first step is to acknowledge that such a problem does exist. Thereafter, look at ways in which this insidious reproduction of conformity can be at least challenged at the university level. But to do so, at least four different segments of university life need to be rethought and reorganized: student beliefs and practices; institutional behaviors and practices; and last but not least the beliefs, habitus and practices of faculty in relation to teaching and the university administration and staff in how they relate to students. This is a somewhat utopian expectation but one has to hope that the conversation will begin somewhere.
The author is affiliated with New York University Abu Dhabi.
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
Features
Concept of living wage and cost of living
The International Labour Organisation (ILO) now defines a living wage as the wage level necessary for workers and their families to afford a decent standard of living, given national circumstances, for normal hours of work. This standard of living is operationalised through the cost of essential goods and services, typically including food, housing, healthcare, education, transport, and a modest allowance for contingencies and social participation.
In contrast, “cost of living” in economics is a broader price index concept that tracks the overall prices of a representative consumption basket but is not inherently normative about what constitutes decency or dignity.
Living wage methodologies effectively translate a cost-of-living basket, specified for a given family size and living standard, into a monthly income requirement for workers, thereby linking real wages to human development objectives rather than only to market productivity.
Methodologies for computing a living wage
Most contemporary living wage estimates follow a structured “cost of a basic but decent life” approach built around three steps: defining a reference family, costing a normative consumption basket, and converting that cost into a wage per worker.
The Anker methodology, widely used in global supply chains and in Sri Lanka, is a leading example: it defines a model family (e.g., 2 adults and approximately 2–3 children), estimates the cost of a low-cost nutritious diet, adequate housing, and non-food essentials, and then allocates that cost over expected number of full-time workers per family.
Within the Anker framework, the food component is based on locally appropriate diets meeting caloric and nutritional norms, priced using local market surveys and adjusted for waste and home preparation.
Housing costs are derived from standards for minimally acceptable housing (e.g., durable materials, sufficient space, basic services), using rents or imputed rental values from empirical fieldwork. Other essential expenditures, health, education, transport, clothing, and a small margin for unexpected events, are typically estimated as a percentage mark-up over food and housing costs, derived from national household survey data.
Finally, the methodology sets a reference number of workers per family, divides total family living costs by this number to get a net living wage, and then adjusts to a gross living wage by adding payroll taxes and mandatory deductions. Periodic updates are made using consumer price indices (CPIs) to reflect inflation or deflation and, where necessary, new field surveys to capture structural shifts in prices and consumption patterns.
Sri Lanka’s living wage estimates and their link to cost of living (Anker Methodology)
Sri Lanka has been the subject of several living wage studies, notably for the tea estate sector and for urban and rural areas, using the Anker methodology.
In the tea estate sector, an updated 2024 Anker report estimates the cost of a “basic but decent” standard of living for a typical family at about LKR 78,067 per month (approximately USD 260), implying a gross living wage of LKR 48,584 per month (USD 160) and a net, take-home living wage of LKR 44,357.
For urban Sri Lanka, the Anker Living Wage Reference Value was originally set at LKR 84,231 per month in April 2022, corresponding to a net living wage of LKR 77,492 plus social security contributions. After cumulative inflation of about 36.9 percent between April 2022 and June 2025, the updated gross urban living wage is estimated at approximately LKR 115,291 per month (around USD 385), consisting of a net living wage of LKR 106,068 and social security contributions of LKR 9,223
These Sri Lankan figures are explicitly derived from cost-of-living calculations: they incorporate the cost of food, housing, utilities, health, education, and other essentials at local prices and then convert these into wages per adult worker, assuming roughly 1.7–1.8 full-time earners per family. Because living wage estimates are indexed to actual price dynamics, periods of high inflation, as Sri Lanka experienced in 2022–2023, translate almost mechanically into sharp upward revisions in living wages, underlining the tight coupling between living wage levels and the evolving cost of living.
Comparative living wages: Sri Lanka and other countries
Cross-country comparisons require careful normalisation because living wages reflect local prices, family structures, and social norms, but several datasets provide a structured basis for comparison. [asia.floorwage](https://asia.floorwage.org/living-wage/calculating-a-living-wage/)
The Asia Floor Wage Alliance, for example, publishes a regional living wage benchmark expressed in purchasing power parity (PPP) terms, with a 2024 benchmark of 1,750.54 PPP dollars per month converted into local currencies using country-specific PPP exchange rates.
Using this PPP-based approach, the 2024 living wage equivalent for Sri Lanka is estimated at around LKR 158,353 per month, assuming a PPP exchange rate of about 90.5 Sri Lankan rupees per PPP dollar.
This PPP-normalised figure is substantially higher than the Anker 2024–2025 estate-sector and urban living wage estimates in nominal rupees, partly because the Asia Floor Wage benchmark is set to ensure a more harmonised standard across Asian garment-producing economies and uses a single PPP wage target.
These figures indicate that, within this PPP-based framework, Sri Lanka’s living wage in local currency is relatively high compared to countries such as India and Bangladesh, but the comparison reflects both different PPP exchange rates and domestic price structures.
From a cost-of-living perspective, this pattern is consistent with Sri Lanka being a lower-middle-income country with relatively higher prices for some essentials compared with low-income South Asian economies, especially after recent macroeconomic and inflationary shocks.
Global patterns and high-income economies
Global datasets covering more than 200 countries show that typical-family living wage levels, whether calculated in PPP or nominal terms, tend to correlate positively with national income levels, with North America, Western Europe, and Australia displaying the highest living wage values.
In this global distribution, living wages in middle- and low-income regions of Asia, Africa, and Latin America are lower in absolute terms, though the ratio of living wage to median wages or statutory minimum wages can be high, underscoring the gap between decent-work standards and prevailing labour market outcomes.
Interestingly, some studies note that rural living wage estimates can be relatively high in poorer countries because limited infrastructure and service availability raise the cost of accessing a given standard of living, such as safe water, transport, and education.
For Sri Lanka, rural Anker living wage benchmarks similarly reveal the importance of non-food costs, such as transportation to schools, health facilities, and workplaces, in shaping the total family budget, despite lower nominal rents in many rural areas.
Living wage, social policy, and Sri Lanka’s development trajectory
The emerging international consensus around a living wage is rooted in the human rights-based notion of a “decent life” rather than a subsistence minimum or an arbitrarily set statutory floor.
From a social science perspective, incorporating living wage benchmarks into wage-setting institutions, collective bargaining, and social dialogue reorients labour markets toward social reproduction, intergenerational mobility, and social cohesion, rather than merely cost competitiveness.
For Sri Lanka, where recent crises have eroded real wages and increased household vulnerability, living wage estimates such as the Anker urban and estate-sector benchmarks provide an analytically rigorous yardstick for evaluating whether current wage policies and social transfers are adequate relative to the actual cost of a basic but decent life.
Comparisons with regional PPP-based benchmarks like the Asia Floor Wage suggest that, while Sri Lanka’s living wage requirement in local currency is relatively high, the country also faces significant affordability challenges, especially for low-paid workers in export sectors and informal employment, whose earnings often fall short of these normative thresholds.
In policy terms, the living wage framework highlights the need for coordinated approaches that combine wage-setting reforms, inflation-sensitive social protection, and productivity-enhancing investments, so that rising living-cost-consistent wages do not simply translate into inflationary spirals or employment losses.
For empirical research in Sri Lanka, these benchmarks open avenues for micro-level analysis of wage gaps, household coping strategies, gendered labour outcomes, and the distributional effects of macroeconomic adjustment, all anchored to a transparent and internationally recognised living wage methodology.
(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe. The views and opinions expressed in this article are personal.)
Features
Buddhist philosophy and the path to lasting peace
Echoes of ‘The Walk for Peace’
The international Walk for Peace’ reaching Colombo, joined by a large number of monks and devotees, led by spiritual leader Ven Bhikku Pannakara, with the peace dog ‘Aloka,’ completing the 161 km journey.The walk commenced in Dambulla on April 22 following the main ceremony at the Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi in Anuradhapura.Pic by Nishan S.Priyantha
by Ven. Dr. Kirinde Assaji Nayaka Thero
Chief Incumbent, Gangaramaya Temple, Hunupitiya, Colombo
Throughout human history, one of the greatest and most complex challenges has been the establishment of lasting peace and the maintenance of harmonious coexistence. While peace is often understood simply as the absence of war or armed conflict, a deeper, spiritual perspective reveals it as a profound state of social and mental harmony. It is an ideal that must be cultivated within individuals as well as across societies.
Buddhism offers one of the most practical and timeless philosophies of peace. The teachings of the Buddha are rooted in non-violence and the four sublime virtues—loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity. Central to this philosophy is the idea that true peace in the world begins with inner peace within the individual. Conflict, the Buddha taught, arises not on battlefields but within the human mind, driven by greed, hatred, and delusion. Without overcoming these negative forces, lasting peace in the external world remains unattainable.
In today’s world, marked by geopolitical tensions, economic competition, and social unrest—this inward approach to peace is more relevant than ever. Despite technological advancement, humanity continues to grapple with violence and division. The Buddha’s teaching points instead to an internal struggle: a battle against anger, jealousy, and ignorance. Rather than weapons of destruction, Buddhism promotes wisdom, compassion, patience, and discipline as the tools to overcome conflict.
The path to peace begins with understanding its causes. Just as muddy water becomes clear when left undisturbed, the human mind achieves clarity and calm when negative emotions are subdued. This principle is reflected in the Buddha’s intervention during a historic dispute between the Sakya and Koliya clans over water, where he reminded them of the greater value of human life, thereby preventing bloodshed.
In a world increasingly threatened by conflict over limited resources and political power, such lessons remain highly relevant. The Buddha also emphasised the principle of moral causation—actions have consequences.
Yadisaṃ vapate bijaṃ tadisaṃ harate phalaṃ
Kalyaāṇakariī kalyaṃ papakariī ca papakaṃ
Pavutthaṃ tata te bijaṃ phalaṃ paccanubhossasiti
“As one sows the seed, so does one reap the fruit.
The doer of good receives good results, and the doer of evil receives evil results.
Dear one, whatever seed you have planted, you will experience the corresponding fruit of it.”
At the heart of Buddhist ethics is respect for life. All beings fear harm and seek happiness, and therefore, violence against others cannot lead to true well-being. This message is particularly significant in an era where the race for power and advanced weaponry continues to overshadow compassion and humanity.
The fundamental moral discipline in Buddhism is respect for life and opposition to harming living beings. The Buddha taught that all beings desire happiness, and fear suffering, and that harming others will not lead to happiness.
Sabbe tasanti dandassa
sabbe bhayanti maccuno
attanam upamam katva
na haneyya na ghataye.
“All tremble at violence; all fear death. Comparing others with oneself, one should neither kill nor cause others to kill.”
Despite technological advancement, the world appears to be moving backwards in terms of compassion and peace. Power-driven politics and the race for advanced weaponry cannot provide lasting solutions. Global leaders, diplomats, and policymakers must urgently recognise the importance of the tolerant, balanced, and non-violent approach taught in Buddhism. Protecting the right to life of all beings, and acting with compassion beyond divisions of race, religion, or politics, is the only true foundation for world peace.
Sri Lanka, as a nation nourished by the essence of Buddhism, has long upheld this principle. The Sri Lankan tradition, rooted in boundless loving-kindness and compassion, strives to uphold human values even amidst the harsh realities of global politics. From the respect shown by King Dutugemunu towards King Elara, to Sri Lanka’s stance at the 1951 San Francisco Peace Conference invoking the words “Hatred is never appeased by hatred,” to recent humanitarian acts in rescuing sailors in distress—these all reflect a single philosophy: valuing human life above all divisions.
The presentation of a “Joint Declaration for Peace” by the Mahanayake Theros at Gangaramaya Temple recently reaffirmed Sri Lanka’s commitment to global peace. Despite global power struggles, Sri Lanka continues to stand as a symbol of compassion and peace, reminding the world that human kindness is more powerful than weapons.
Institutions such as the Gangaramaya Temple have played a vital role in fostering social harmony. Through charitable, educational, and cultural programmes, the temple has encouraged unity across religious and ethnic lines, while also promoting interfaith dialogue and cooperation.
The annual Navam Maha Perahera, organised by the temple, stands as a powerful symbol of national unity, bringing together people from diverse backgrounds in a shared celebration. Similarly, vocational training and educational initiatives have helped empower young people from all communities, strengthening social cohesion.
A recent “Walk for Peace,” led by Venerable Pannakara Thero and supported by the monastic community, further underscored this commitment. More than a physical journey, it represented a spiritual effort to cultivate peace within the human heart and spread a message of compassion to the wider world.
One of the most touching aspects of the event was the participation of a dog named “Aloka,” which accompanied the monks throughout the journey. This simple yet powerful image reflected the Buddhist teaching that all living beings value life and deserve compassion, highlighting the universal nature of peace.
Ultimately, the Buddha’s message remains clear: peace cannot be achieved through hatred or violence. True peace arises from self-discipline, moral conduct, and the cultivation of a pure mind. As the teaching states, avoiding evil, doing good, and purifying one’s mind is the path laid down by the Buddha.
Let us plant the seeds of peace within our hearts and nurture them with loving-kindness. (“Sabba papassa akarananṃ – kusalassa upasampadā – sacitta pariyodapanaṃ – etaṃ Buddhana sasanaṃ”)
In a time when global tensions continue to rise, this timeless message serves as a powerful reminder that lasting peace begins within each individual—and that compassion remains humanity’s greatest strength.
“Devo vassatu kalena – sassa sampatti hetu ca
Pito bhavatu loko ca – rajaā bhavatu dhammiko”
(“May the rains fall at the right time, bringing about abundant harvests.
May the world be joyful and prosperous.
May the ruler be righteous and just.”)
Features
Peace march and promise of reconciliation
The ongoing peace march by a group of international Buddhist monks has captured the sentiment of Sri Lankans in a manner that few public events have done in recent times. It is led by the Vietnamese monk Venerable Thich Pannakara who is associated with a mindfulness movement that has roots in Vietnamese Buddhist practice and actively promoted among diaspora communities in the United States. The peace march by the monks, accompanied by their mascot, the dog Aloka, has generated affection and goodwill within the Buddhist and larger community. It follows earlier peace walks in the United States where monks carried a similar message of mindfulness and compassion across communities but without any government or even media patronage as in Sri Lanka.
This initiative has the potential to unfold into an effort to nurture a culture of peace in Sri Lanka. Such a culture is necessary if the country as the country prepares to move beyond its history of conflict towards a more longlasting reconciliation and a political solution to its ethnic and religious divisions. The government’s support for the peace march can be seen as part of a broader attempt to shape such a culture. The Clean Sri Lanka programme, promoted by the government as a civic responsibility campaign focused on environmental cleanliness, ethical conduct and social discipline, provides a useful framework within which such initiatives can be situated. Its emphasis on collective responsibility and shared public space makes it sit well with the values that peacebuilding requires.
government’s previous plan to promote a culture of peace was on the occasion of “Sri Lanka Day” celebrations which were scheduled to take place on December 12-14 last year but was disrupted by Cyclone Ditwah. The Sri Lanka Day celebrations were to include those talented individuals from each and every community at the district level who had excelled in some field or the other, such as science, business or arts and culture and selected by the District Secretariats in each of the 25 districts. They were to gather in Colombo to engage in cultural performances and community-focused exhibitions. The government’s intention was to build up a discourse around the ideas of unity in diversity as a precursor to addressing the more contentious topics of human rights violations during the war period, and issues of accountability and reparations for wrongs suffered during that dark period.
Positive Response
The invitation to the international monks appears to have emerged from within Buddhist religious networks in Sri Lanka that have long maintained links with the larger international Buddhist community. The strong support extended by leading temples and clergy within the country, including the Buddhists Mahanayakes indicates that this was not an isolated effort but one that resonated with the mainstream Buddhist establishment. Indeed, the involvement of senior Buddhist leaders has been particularly noteworthy. A Joint Declaration for Peace in the world, drawing on Sri Lanka’s own experience, and by the Mahanayakes of all Buddhist Chapters took place in the context of the ongoing peace march at the Gangaramaya Temple in Colombo, with participation from the diplomatic community. The declaration, calling for compassion, dialogue and sustainable peace, reflects an effort by religious leadership to assert a moral voice in favour of coexistence.
The popular response to the peace march has also been striking. Large numbers of people have been gathering along the route, offering flowers, water and support to the monks. Schoolchildren have been lining the roads, and communities from different religious backgrounds extend hospitality. On the way, the monks were hosted by both a Hindu temple and a mosque, where food and refreshments were provided. These acts, though simple, carry a message about the possibility of harmony among Sri Lanka’s diverse communities. It helps to counter the perception that the Buddhist community in Sri Lanka is inherently nationalist and resistant to minority concerns that was shaped during the decades of war and reinforced by political mobilisation that too often exploited ethnic identity.
By way of contrast, the peace march offers a different image. It shows a readiness among ordinary people to embrace values of compassion and coexistence that are deeply embedded in Buddhist teaching. The Metta Sutta, one of the most well-known discourses in Buddhism, calls for boundless goodwill towards all beings. It states that one should cultivate a mind that is “boundless towards all beings, free from hatred and ill will.” This emphasis on universal compassion provides a moral foundation for peace that extends beyond national or ethnic boundaries. The monks themselves emphasised this point repeatedly during the walk. Venerable Thich Pannakara reminded those who gathered that while acts of generosity are commendable, mindfulness in everyday life is even more important. He warned that as people become unmindful, they are more prone to react with anger and hatred, thereby contributing to conflict.
More Initiatives
The presence of political leaders at key moments of the march has emphasised the significance that the government attaches to the event. Prime Minister Harini Amarasuriya paid her respects to the peace march monks in Kandy, while President Anura Kumara Dissanayake is expected to do so at the conclusion of the march in Colombo. Such gestures signal an alignment between political authority and moral aspiration, even if the translation of that aspiration into policy remains a work in progress. At the same time, the peace march has not been without its shortcomings. The walk did not engage with the Northern and Eastern parts of the country, regions that were most affected by the war and where the need for reconciliation is most acute. A more inclusive geographic reach would have strengthened the symbolic impact of the initiative.
In addition, the positive impact of the peace march could have been increased if more effort had been taken to coordinate better with other civic and religious groups and include them in the event. Many civil society and religious harmony groups who would have liked to participate in the peace march found themselves unable to do so. There was no place in the programme for them to join. Even government institutions tasked with promoting social cohesion and reconciliation found themselves outside the loop. The Clean Sri Lanka Task Force that organised the peace march may have felt that involving other groups would have made it more complicated to organise the events which have proceeded without problems.
The hope is that the positive energy and goodwill generated by this peace march will not dissipate but will instead inspire further initiatives with the requisite coordination and leadership. The march has generated public discussion, drawn attention to the values of mindfulness and compassion, and created a space in which people can imagine a different future. It has been a special initiative among the many that are needed to build a culture of peace. A culture of peace cannot be imposed from above nor can it emerge overnight. It needs to be nurtured through multiple efforts across society, including education, religious engagement, civic initiatives and political reform. It is within such a culture that the more difficult questions of power sharing, justice and reconciliation can be addressed in a constructive manner.
by Jehan Perera
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