Features

Dream That was Peradeniya: The Beginning of the End

Published

2 years ago

2024/07/14

by Ananda Wanasinghe

Last Sunday my friend Nissanka Warakaula wrote about the halcyon days at the then iconic University of Ceylon at Peradeniya. Nissanka was three years senior to me. I went down from Peradeniya in 1966. In my first term of that final year, I had the misfortune of being present on the day that set off the decline of “The Dear Perpetual Place” as Prof. Ashley Halpe lovingly and aptly referred to it in the excellent anthology “Peradeniya: Memories of a University” (1997).

A major, and most un-academic, diversion from studies during the first term of every year was routine during our time at Peradeniya. With exams being a distant two terms away, these rumpuses on campus were taken as lively distractions from studies. In my first year (1962) the disturbances started when some left-wing students jostled Mr. Dudley Senanayake, the then Leader of the Opposition, who had been invited to address the students at the Arts Theatre. Two other strikes followed in ‘63and ’64. So, inevitably, a boycott of lectures based on 12 demands commenced on Monday, December 6, 1965. Provision for regular meetings between the Vice Chancellor and students’ representatives; assured government employment for all graduates; and making all minor workers permanent employees of the University were among these demands. Unfortunately, no one seems to remember any of the other demands now. However, they were all couched in the language of the strident radical left-wing politics of the time.

In my narrative below, I write what I recall vividly of what I witnessed that day, as well as what I gathered from others immediately after the events. A few gaps in the account have been filled after discussion over a few weeks, with some of my contemporaries: all of us going down ‘memory lane’. This account amounts to a series of snapshots of incidents in the larger episode and is by no means a minute-by-minute commentary. There could be some incidents that I am not aware of.

MORNING

I was woken up at five in the morning from a deep slumber by the sound of loud knocking on some doors on my floor in the Wijewardane Hall accompanied by loud talk. It was Saturday, December 11, 1965.

The previous night most Hall Societies including ours had decided, after much fractious debate, to end the strike. A large number of students who were against the strike, including myself, participated in a boisterous march to Ramanathan Hall to announce to all that reason was restored.

Now it seemed that the strikers headed by my friend and batch-mate N. Shanmugaratnam (Shan), President of the Union Council, had plotted and planned throughout the night in Marrs Hall and were ordering the first-year students out to continue with their agitation. I realized that we, the anti-strikers, had been preempted. Shan was a decent and good-natured fellow with a strong mind. Politically, he was a ‘Maoist’ with the Peking Wing of the Communist Party. He also had the support of the other left parties for the strike. However, there were also opportunists who were after glory for themselves by indulging in vain deluding heroics.

At about 5.30 in the morning, I telephoned Shan at Marrs Hall and spoke with him for about five minutes. [Shan and I were in the Agriculture Faculty and a large majority of faculty students were against the strike and continued with the lectures and practical work. I openly campaigned against the strike in the Faculty as well as among the fellow students at Wijewardane.] I asked him to rethink the possible consequences of going ahead with the strike, particularly because there were a significantly large number of students who were against the strike. He told me that he believed what they were doing was the right thing and that he was determined to go ahead. I cautioned him about others who may have different objectives and told him to be a little careful of his own personal safety in the event that things got out of hand. It was a very cordial exchange that would be unthinkable in the present culture of campus politics and agitation anywhere in Sri Lanka.

VIOLENCE

After breakfast I was alone in my room on the second floor of the first wing as my room-mate Gerry Jayawardane had gone for lectures. As I had no work in the Faculty that morning I practiced on a ‘Button Accordion’ That I had borrowed from the late Dr. Harold Wijetunga, the Senior University Medical Officer and a very kind gentleman. After a while I decided to catch up on the sleep lost earlier in the morning. I must have slept for about an hour, when for the second time that day I was rudely awakened by the door being burst opened and two girls and a boy rushing into the room screaming “wedi thiyanawa, wedi thiyanawa“. All three of them were covered in perspiration and hysterical.

I told them to sit down and try to be calm. Looking out of my window I saw some policemen come running past Jayatilaka Hall towards Kandy Road with a large number of students in hot pursuit. Just past the railway under crossing, almost out of my line of sight, the students caught up with them and the last policeman was dragged down by the leading pursuant. In an instant a dozen student were upon him. I also saw one student picking up a large rock with both his hands and walking towards the scuffle which was now out of my sight. I thought the policeman might be killed.

Later I learnt that Sarath Ranasinghe of Wijewardane, my classmate in school, while walking to the Medical Faculty had been there on the spot when the students attacked the policeman. He boldly intervened and stopped the student with the rock before he could hurl it on the fallen policeman. Sarath received a few blows himself, but managed to prevail on the assailants to have mercy on the man who was badly injured. When they left, Sarath, being well-built and strong, carried the injured man (Sgt. Seneviratne) up the embankment to the road and continued towards the Medical Faculty to have him attended-to when a police ambulance arrived and took the Sergeant to the hospital. This incident was reported in ‘The Island’ of October 19, 2008.

The spark that set off the violence had been lit at the entrance to the Biology Lab. Kushlani Ranasinghe, a final-year student from Sangamitta had been prevented from entering the zoology lab by picketing strikers lying supine covering all approaches to the main entrance to the building. Evidently, a daring girl, she waded across this mass of ‘fallen’ humanity and stumbled into the doorway where she was stopped from losing her balance and helped in by her batch-mate R. Rudran from Arunachalam Hall, who had arrived before the entrance was blocked. Following this event, Prof. Hilary Cruz, who was authoritarian and could hardly relate to the students, had called the University Proctor.

Kushlani recalls Dr. Tommy Wickramanayake (Proctor) turning up and telling the picketing students to vacate the place, and going away saying that the police would be called if they did not. When there was no response from the strikers Prof. Cruz had called the Police. In a while, the police arrived. Bandula Perera from Wijewardane remembers Mr. R. Sunderalingam, SP Kandy, removing his regulation cap in an obviously conciliatory gesture, and proceeding to address the strikers. He spoke as a graduate of Peradeniya as well as a past President of the Union Council and appealed to the students to disperse peacefully. At this point Shan stepped out and spoke to the gathering asking them to listen to the present President and said that this is our campus, and the police have no right to interfere. He added that the students were not moving away from where they were.

Not long afterwards, a group of policemen had arrived at the scene fired tear gas at the crowd of students and baton-charged them. One of the first to get hit was Shan, and he was bleeding from the head. A Police Inspector took hold of him saying that he had a big mouth. Let me quote Shan about what happened next. “…Then I ended up in a police truck. That was when WS (Prof. W.S. Karunaratne), fleeing the angry crowd, ran towards the truck calling out ‘ralahamy, ralahamy’, and got in and sat with me. He was quite chatty!! The students were now marching in big numbers towards the truck. Coora (P.S. Cooray) was one of the leaders. He removed his shirt, waved it, and raised his clenched fist and shouted at the police. In the melee I saw a tall man steadily walking towards the police truck. Pointing at me, he told the officer standing there – ‘You must release this man, otherwise it’s going to be difficult to control the students.’ I came to know later that he was Prof. Sivapragasapillai of the Faculty of Engineering. After some time, I was taken to the Kandy police station. Prof. Siva had followed us to the police station. He bailed me out and took me to the hospital. Many students visited me at the hospital. Some of them wept.”

The students who had now been provoked attacked the police with stones. Pandemonium reigned at the Biology Building. Rudran remembers hearing shots being fired, and a large number of students fleeing across the cricket field towards the Arts Faculty. Police had fired warning shots in the air. He remembers he was sick the entire day from the tear gas that came into the lab. Kushlani recollects that she, with other lab staff, dressing wounds of a few girls, among those who rushed into the lab for protection.

They were bleeding from cut injuries. There were no reports of any student sustaining gunshot injuries. H.L. Premasiri, an engineering student arriving late in a group to join the protest saw Neville Perera, a well-known loud-mouthed agitator who seemed to bask in the adulation of his followers, come loping down the Old Galaha Road. As he passed Premasiri’s group, he shouted “sahodarawaruni duwanda” [run comrades run]. So Premasiri and others beat a hasty retreat back to Wijewardane Hall.

Among those who fled towards the Arts Faculty was K.S. de Abrew, an engineering student who was a hyperactive supporter of the strike. A few days earlier, he was apprehended by Marshals while slipping leaflets under people’s doors at night. He was an inveterate troublemaker. There were a large number of students at the Arts Theatre who were injured during the baton charge and the resulting stampede. Abrew with a colleague who had a scooter rushed to the Health Center on Sanghamitta Hill to get some medical supplies for dressing wounds. When the Sister-in-charge refused to give anything, they forcibly grabbed as much cotton wool and bandage rolls as they could and rode back to the Arts Theatre.

On his way up and down, he saw a few items of furniture thrown down to the road from the Vice Chancellor’s Lodge. A while later, Sunila Munaweera (final year) an ardent supporter of the strike who enjoyed missing lectures, and Shirani Fonseka (first year) both from Ramanathan remember watching him spellbound as he made a fiery exhortation to the satankaami sahodarawaru (battling comrades) to continue to battle the reactionary forces on campus. Sunila claims that she didn’t know any of the demands she was ‘fighting’ for. Shirani says she had several misgivings about the demands as well as about picketing, but because everyone in her group of friends supported the agitation, she also joined the boycott of lectures but covertly avoided joining in picketing. It is most likely that such attitudes of thrill-seeking and passive participation prevailed among a large majority of the strikers.

A group of students had broken into the Lodge and damaged and thrown out furniture. When Coora visited the place later he saw some periodicals burning on the lawn. And as Samarasinghe says, there was only a little damage caused to the building and the furniture.

There were too many enraged students who were now willing to risk everything to get even with the police and the vastly outnumbered policemen were forced to turn around and run for dear life. It was these men that I saw from my window. By this time, the three [probably first year] students had sought some other place of refuge; and I walked down to the ground floor to find out what was going on. There were a large number of boys and girls in the dining hall and the lobby, and an even larger crowd of boys gathered on the large lawn out in front. It seemed the police had left the campus. Students in small groups were piecing together the preceding events and relating their individual experiences. By now the students had shed their differences and were united against the Police.

Before long, Police returned in larger numbers. Many of them were now armed with rifles. They ordered everybody outside to get inside Wijewardane Hall, and they seemed to mean business – after all, a few of their comrades had been badly mauled by the students earlier in the day. But there were still a few very angry hot-headed students willing to defy the police. However, a few senior students, including Coora and myself stepped out of the crowd and coaxed the others into the Hall. This took some time, and I clearly remember two constables close behind Coora and me pointing their rifles at us. The police ordered students not to leave the Hall. There must have been close to a thousand students now in the Hall. I cannot quite remember about lunch, but I guess that everybody shared what had been prepared for only the 500 occupants of Wijewardane.

REVOLUTION!

Then came to pass the most comical as well as pathetic episode during my four-year stay at Peradeniya.

It was now about two hours after the cessation of hostilities and things seemed to have settled on campus. But police jeeps kept prowling the roads. No student ventured to step out into the open. Then an announcement was made that there would be a meeting of the students in a short while in the dining hall which would be addressed by “The Leader”. To me this sounded ominous and mysterious because everybody knew that Shan was under arrest. I wondered if there was further mischief afoot.

For a while one and all waited in suspense, quandary, and misgivings as to what was going to happen. Then amidst much hailing and hosannas from some of the leading strikers, in strode Neville Perera on to the podium. His supporters kept cheering until he signaled them to stop. Then without any preliminaries he proclaimed that the Union Council was dissolved, and the Revolution had started!! He also announced that the harbor workers in Colombo had gone on strike and that CTB would follow shortly.

Perera went on to give instructions as to how we should conduct ourselves, the details of which I don’t remember. And in truly revolutionary fashion he appointed several agents provocateurs, to act on whatever the ‘revolutionary council’ decreed and also to maintain order. True to form, and to the best of my memory, these agents were bestowed with the code name ‘Danco’. I well remember Bandula, one of the Dancos, marching up and down the lobby of Wijewardane like a drill sergeant ordering students not to leave the Hall. Neville Perera did not stay long after these histrionics and was cheered out by his allies and devotees.

To me it seemed that all this nonsense was taken seriously by everybody present. I felt sad for such seeming credulity of the absurd, among those who were usually referred to by the literati as the ‘cream of the country’s intelligentsia’. Or were they all stunned out of their wits by the bombast?

Towards the evening, Marshals came and asked everyone to get back to their respective halls of residence. They escorted the girls back to their halls. Dancos seemed to have renounced their arrogance and anticipated role in the revolution had re-merged with the students. The police disguised Rudran and Kushlani in police raincoats and evacuated them to Colombo in the evening, for their protection. There came an announcement that the university had closed, and all students were required to leave the campus the next day. This was only one week ahead of the scheduled end of the first term. So ended this unforgettable day.

EPILOGUE

With the start of the second term, the University instituted action against those who were perceived as indulging in violence. This included all the ‘Dancos’. The inquiries were conducted by a triumvirate comprising Dr. Tommy Wickramanayake (University Proctor) and two other senior staff members. The suspect students were allowed, if they so wished, to be represented by another student. [This was the era when today’s State Counsel were called ‘Crown Counsel’. A wag promptly labeled those representing the suspects – ‘Clown Counsel’.] Understandably, most ‘suspects’ chose those who were openly against the strike to represent them. I ‘defended’ Bandula and the late Sinha Perera.

The Court Case and After

The case, Queen vs. N. Shanmugaratnam, N. Perera, Sydney Jayasinghe, and W.B. Wijeratne, was first taken up in the Majistrate’s court. They were charged with unlawful assembly, arson, attempted murder etc. Sydney was discharged at this inquiry. The other three accused stood trial at the district court in Kandy and were defended by a team of three lawyers headed by Mr. V. Karalasingham. In the end, an understanding judge conditionally discharged the accused students.

This was followed by an inquiry by the University’s Board of Residence and Dicipline. The inquiry was conducted by a panel headed by Prof Bawa with Dr. Mrs. Aluwihare as a member. Shan and Sydney were suspended for one year. Wijeratne and Wijegunawardane were suspended for one term. Neville Perera was not suspended on the technical point that he was not a student at the time.

Long-term Consequences

This event was the turning point of the decline of universities in Sri Lanka. The government took the opportunity presented by the violence to appoint Civil Servants as Vice Chancellors instead of electing them from among the academics. The Minister of Education, who had an axe to grind with the university, took every opportunity to intervene in the affairs of the universities. (Incidentally, the minister’s daughter and future son-in-law were students at Peradeniya during this period.) Prof. Ashley Halpe has recounted in some detail the decline of the Universities in Sri Lanka following this event in the anthology mentioned above.

R. Sundaralingam, at the time, Acting S.P. Kandy, and a former president of the Union Council, is on record as telling the Vice Chancellor early in December 1965 “…that police intervention in university student unrest would aggravate the situation, the Vice Chancellor, … was adamant that police should intervene to bring the situation under control.” Sir Nicholas had also reported to the Prime Minister about the SP’s attitude. He further says that the police intervened in response to a call from Prof. Cruz claiming that the biology building was being stoned causing heavy damage. [‘The Island’, October 19, 2008.]

Sir Nicholas Attygalle had a reputation as an exceptionally gifted obstetrician and gynecologist but not as a great educator. He was authoritative, rarely accessible to students, and hardly responsive to student demands of any sort. Newspapers of the time often referred to him as the “Iron Chancellor” after the first German Chancellor von Bismarck. The students’ demand for regular meetings with him reflected this obstinate attitude of his.

It was also known that there was an irreconcilable rift between Sir Nicholas and Prof. EOE Pereira, Dean of the Engineering Faculty. The latter was known to be an excellent teacher and was almost venerated by students of his faculty. He never compromised on the high academic standards expected of them. There would have been members of the staff who supported one or the other of them. This may have been a major reason for the strong participation of the Engineering Faculty in the strike. However, there must have been many other highly respected senior staffers who did not take sides. They perhaps could have opened a dialogue/initiative with student leaders and political leaders of the time who themselves had been the beneficiaries of post-graduate education at prestigious universities in the West. Such an effort towards the development of the University along the liberal lines that Sir Ivor Jennings had intended for Peradeniya could well have prevented the deterioration of university education in Sri Lanka that we see today.

In hindsight, it seems that Sir Nicholas may not have been the best to succeed Sir Ivor who went on to hold the positions of Master of Trinity Hall and Vice Chancellor of Cambridge University. Prof. EOE Pereira was appointed Vice Chancellor in 1969. But by that time, the university system had undergone a seminal change, and its effective management had passed on to the hands of mere politicians.

It is the country’s misfortune that the pantheon of academic luminaries that graced the then University of Ceylon could not deliver a scholar as Vice Chancellor who would have commanded the respect of the staff and the esteem of the students.

How they ended up – 50 years on

Cooray P.S. – Retired Teacher and voluntary social worker; Bandaragama

De Abrew, K.S. – Senior Water and Sanitation Engineer, Botswana

Fonseka, Shirani – (Mrs. De Abrew) Amateur Ceramic Artist; Botswana

Jayasinghe, Sydney – Consultant Director, Bogala Graphite Company PLC; Colombo

Perera, Dr. Bandula – Company Director; Deputy Chairman, Public Utilities Commission; Board Member, Industrial Technology Institute; Colombo

Perera, Neville – Germany (when last heard of)

Premasiri, H.L. – Water Supply Engineer; Specialist in Procurement; Colombo

Munaweera, Sunila – (Mrs. Rajawasan) Formerly; Statistician, RVDB; Now Aerobics Instructor; Mt Lavinia

Ranasinghe, Kushlani – (Mrs. Amarsuriya) Formerly, Executive Director, Alcohol and Drug Information Center (ADIC); now, voluntary social worker, Colombo

Ranasinghe, Sarath – Consultant Physician and Managing Director, Kandy Private Hospital

Late Rudran, Dr. R. – Scientist Emeritus, Smithsonian Institute, Washington D.C. USA

Shanmugaratnam, Dr. N. – Professor Emeritus and Director of international studies,

Norwegian University of Life Sciences, Aas, Norway

Wanasinghe, Ananda – Consultant Development Economist, Colombo

Wijegunasinghe, D.

(now Wije Dias) – General Secretary of the Socialist Equality Party, Colombo

Wijeratne, Dr. W.B. – Director, Research & Food Technology, Harvest Innovations, Iowa, USA

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Features

It is not 1968, but protests are everywhere except Sri Lanka

Published

17 hours ago

2026/10/18

Thilina Walpola

From Paris Tranquil

by Rajan Philips

Paris has exploded in protests barely two weeks after peacefully assembling nearly a million people on its streets to welcome and salute Pope Leo XIV on his first visit to France. The good Pope himself has since been diagnosed with lung cancer and is convalescing after surgery in the Vatican. The protest triggers in France are youth frustrations over the state of the country’s education system and the broken conditions of its schools. The scale and mode of the current protests have brought back memories of the great French student protests in May 1968. The two are not the same and even though they may be comparable in appearance, the circumstances between then and now are vastly different and so will be the consequences.

It is not only in Paris, but the protests are also everywhere else in France. As well as in other cities in other countries in Europe and extending beyond. The protest triggers vary from country to country, but the arc of the protests from Paris to Delhi has a common strand: youth frustrations. Everywhere, it is the youth that is on the march – for better education in France, Belgium, Greece, Germany, Ireland, Albania and Austria; housing access and affordability in Spain; and opposition to official tampering with electoral voter lists in India. The young are restless about their future. “No future, no calm” is the chant in Paris.

France’s union of students, Union Syndicale Lycéenne (USL) had outlined four basic grievances before the protests began: “lack of teachers and staff, “dilapidated lycées,” overloaded timetables and classes, and the stress caused by Parcoursup” (a government web portal used for university admissions). The French government’s initial lukewarm response provoked the protests and when the government took a ham fisted approach, things went out of control. It has been the same story in other countries.

In India, the Modi government unleashed the police forces on students and others protesting the manipulation of the voter lists by the Chief Election Commissioner, Gyanesh Kumar, and calls for his resignation have become the rallying cry of the protests. The protests are no longer limited to the “Cockroach” youth movement or the Cockroach Janata Party (CJP), and more mainstream opposition parties are all in the fray.

Defending the Constitution has become the new motif for Rahul Gandhi and the Congress Party. The Cockroach movement that first tasted political blood in June this year, by forcing the resignation of the Union Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan over national exam leaks, is looking for a second scalp. The government is not in any immediate danger, but Prime Minister Narendra Modi is rapidly losing his political varnish and these protests may mark the beginning of his retirement.

In Spain, Socialist Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez has called a snap election on the housing question, hoping to steal a march on the conservative Popular Party that has been leading in the opinion polls. Mr. Sanchez has been in power since 2018 and, despite the fluctuations in domestic approval rating, has gained international prominence following his clashes with Trump and Isreal over Gaza and the Iran war.

The beleaguered French President Emmanual Macron has six months left in office, and the next presidential election will be held in either April or May next year. In the cabinet meeting after three weeks of protests, President Macron reportedly acknowledged “that young people have legitimate concerns, but said these are being exploited for political purposes and turned into urban violence.”

The two main contenders to replace Macron are Jean-Luc Mélenchon who leads the far-left France Unbowed (LFI) Party, and Marine Le Pen leading the far-right National Rally (RN Party. Mélenchon is supportive of the protests, has condemned police brutality, and has participated in the Paris demonstrations. Le Pen, on the other hand, who is also the front runner in opinion polls, has blamed the students and supports police deployment against them.

There is also speculation that former President François Hollande (2012-2017) may stage a comeback as a more normal alternative to the two extreme contenders. Although he was deeply unpopular when he left office foregoing a second run, Mr. Hollande is considered to have been mostly mocked (as Rain Man) but not at all hated. His moderate positions and his socialist roots may attract a portion of the French electorate that is tired of “Jupiter” Macron and is weary of the diametrically opposite prospects.

: To Paris Turbulent

1968 Throwback

Whichever way, an orderly transition through France’s “rentrée politique” is in the offing, and the protesters are not clamouring to overthrow anything. That is a far cry from what transpired in 1968, when student protests ultimately led to the ouster of Charles de Gaulle. And there was more. Amidst convulsions in the US over Civil Rights legislation and the prosecution of the Vietnam War, Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy were assassinated, President Johnson declared that he will not be a candidate in the 1968 presidential election, and Richard Nixon was elected as President eight years after his defeat by John Kennedy.

Besides the protests in France, there were protests in the then Communist countries and Yugoslavia, the Prague Spring in Czechoslovakia, the start of the troubles in Northern Ireland, and uprisings against military juntas in Latin America. Africa was becoming more and more independent and there were strong prospects of secular nationalism in the Middle East. The year 1968 also marked the start of many social movements including feminism, and the environmental and anti-war movements. Socialists were a force to reckon with in France and Italy, both politically and electorally. New Left politics was emerging as a counter to both unbridled capitalism and Soviet orthodoxy. The Club of Rome was born in 1968.

“L’imagination au pouvoir” (Power to the imagination) became the battle cry in Paris in May 1968. The protests were infused with optimism for a new social order supervening the postwar material progress. There were powerful cultural and literary overtones that have proved to be more durable than the political projects that inspired them. Television became the main political medium, if not also the message. Although the state power and structures survived, other structures were broken and the intellectual and cultural legacies of 1968 have continued.

It is a different ball of wax in 2026. The protesting students are not looking for any brave new world, but for decent furniture, clean toilets and back to basics teaching and immediate remedies to problems that should not be there in the first place. In Spain, the younger generation is looking for housing at affordable rents. European demographics are also not helpful. The ageing population has its own needs and demands while the youth are increasingly drawn from the immigrant and the working class sections of society. High youth unemployment, zero growth, and government debt have become recipe for stagnation and not resolution. In theory, it is called “gerontonomia,” a form of “democratically sustained economic stagnation.”

In politics, the radicals and populists were dominantly on the right unlike in 1968 when the political left held sway even if it was not in power. Donald Trump, who vulgarly led the rise of the ugly right, may be on his way out, but it is a different story elsewhere. The right has returned to power practically in every South American country. Brazil is almost equally divided between its socialist President Lula de Silva and his presidential challenger Flavio Bolsonaro, the Senator son of Jair Bolsonaro who is in prison for fomenting insurrection to upend the 2022 presidential election.

In 1968, China was at the peak of its Cultural Revolution. It is a different China now. Indonesia was beginning its post-Soekarno era, just as India was adapting to life without Nehru, albeit in vastly different ways. Field Marshal Ayub Khan was overthrown in Pakistan – then with its two wings, east and west, separated by a thousand miles of Indian territory. Within three years, Bangladesh would break free quite violently, redrawing forever the colonial map of the subcontinent. Bangladesh had another uprising in 2024 and the new government is struggling to keep the many promises it made in the elections that followed the overthrow of Sheikh Hasina after 15 years in power. Imran Khan decidedly eschewed Sri Lanka’s ‘aragalaya’ example to protest his ouster in Pakistan, but the army has locked him up and seems to be in no mood to release him. Now there are protests in Pakistan for his release before it is too late for everyone’s good.

It was all relatively quiet in Sri Lanka in 1968, but it would not be for long. The 1970s and every other decade since have seen political turmoils of one kind or another. 1968 / 1969 were also the years when Sri Lanka’s parliament began considering a response to the 1964 Privy Council ruling (in Bribery Commissioner v. Ranasinghe) and its implications for the ‘unalterably entrenched’ clauses of the Soulbury Constitution.

Dr. Colvin R de Silva, then an opposition LSSP MP, took over the debate and convinced everybody that the path to reforming the constitution was not through amending the Soulbury Constitution, but bypassing it and creating a new constitution and a new republic. Dr de Silva accomplished both but not without creating unintended consequences. Tamil separatism was one, and transforming Sri Lanka into a presidential polity was another. The former has come and gone, while the latter is still in force in spite of many promises and mandates to revert the country to its earlier parliamentary system.

President Dissanayake and the NPP government are the latest in a long line of promisers. The country is waiting for the final fulfillment of the promise and not its betrayal. The government can claim some credit for the current quiet in the country, but it would be a fool’s paradise to assume that peace and power are permanent.

Features

India and Sri Lanka must move beyond Katchatheevu to save the Palk Bay

Published

17 hours ago

2026/10/18

Thilina Walpola

By Milinda Moragoda

The latest proceedings before the Supreme Court of India offer an opportunity to move the Katchatheevu island debate beyond the familiar question of sovereignty. While hearing petitions challenging the 1974 and 1976 India-Sri Lanka maritime agreements, the court urged the central and Tamil Nadu governments to sensitise fishermen about the consequences of crossing the international maritime boundary and entering Sri Lankan waters. The Indian government, meanwhile, has made clear that it does not intend to reopen the agreements and is pursuing concerns relating to Indian fishermen through diplomatic channels.

More significantly, the Attorney General pointed to the depletion of fish stocks in Indian waters as one reason fishermen venture into Sri Lankan waters. The court also raised questions about fishing practices and the condition of Indian coastal waters during the hearing.

These observations point towards a more fundamental question: is the continuing focus on Katchatheevu distracting both India and Sri Lanka from the real crisis—the depletion of the Palk Bay’s marine resources and the persistence of destructive fishing practices?

A problem larger than an island

Over 50 years ago, Sri Lanka and India signed two maritime boundary agreements—one in 1974 and the other in 1976—defining the International Maritime Boundary Line and establishing the respective maritime jurisdictions of the two countries, including Sri Lanka’s sovereignty over Katchatheevu. The agreements did not grant Indian fishermen traditional fishing rights in Sri Lankan waters, nor did they provide reciprocal rights to Sri Lankan fishermen in Indian waters.

The constitutional and legal challenges to those agreements remain before the Indian Supreme Court. The court has not adjudicated their constitutional validity, and the matter remains pending. At the bilateral level, however, successive governments have treated the maritime boundary established by the agreements as the basis for managing relations between the two countries.

The concerns of Tamil Nadu’s fishing communities are genuine. Indian fishermen and their families face economic hardship when boats are detained and fishermen are arrested after crossing the maritime boundary. Tamil Nadu Chief Minister C Joseph Vijay has recently urged the Indian government to intervene to secure the release of detained fishermen and seized boats and called for renewed dialogue.

But these immediate concerns point towards a larger question: why are fish stocks being depleted, and what can be done to restore them?

The problem cannot be addressed simply through repeated diplomatic representations, arrests, releases and demands for the return of fishing boats. Nor can it be resolved by continually reopening the political debate over Katchatheevu.

The Palk Bay is a shared ecological system whose resources are finite. Its health ultimately determines whether fishing communities, on either side of the maritime boundary, can continue to make a living from it.

The ecological toll

Bottom trawling is at the heart of the problem. Dragging heavy nets across the seabed destroys marine habitats, captures juvenile fish and generates substantial bycatch. Its effects are cumulative and potentially long-lasting.

The issue is, therefore, not simply whether fishermen cross an international maritime boundary. It is also the impact on the marine ecosystem of continued large-scale, destructive fishing.

Sri Lanka’s Northern Province, once home to a thriving fishing industry, has experienced a sharp decline in fish catches, from 35,000 metric tonnes in 1995 to 17,000 metric tonnes in 2023. Multiple factors have contributed to this decline, including the legacy of decades of conflict and displacement. But pressure from large-scale trawling in the Palk Bay has added to the difficulties faced by northern fishing communities.

For fishermen on both sides, the long-term interest should, therefore, be the same: preserving the marine resource on which their livelihoods depend.

A consistent but passive response

Sri Lanka has maintained a consistent and restrained position on Katchatheevu for five decades, working within established legal and diplomatic frameworks. The island has also remained a symbol of the longstanding links between the two countries, particularly through St Anthony’s Church and the annual pilgrimage attended by devotees from both sides.

But Sri Lanka has done little to give Katchatheevu a constructive contemporary role. That should change.

Years ago, the Pathfinder Foundation proposed the establishment of a marine research station on Katchatheevu, led by the Department of Fisheries, the National Aquatic Resources Agency (NARA), and Sri Lankan universities.

The proposal deserves renewed consideration.

Turning Katchatheevu into a platform for science.

A marine research station would give Sri Lanka a practical means of exercising responsible stewardship while contributing to the preservation of the wider Palk Bay ecosystem.

It could monitor marine biodiversity and ecological degradation, assess the long-term impact of bottom trawling, track migratory patterns and spawning cycles, and provide scientific data for fisheries policy. It could also serve as a platform for marine diplomacy and dialogue between India and Sri Lanka.

India already possesses substantial marine research capabilities. Sri Lanka should develop a complementary capability on its side of the maritime boundary.

Advances in solar power, desalination and modular construction have also reduced the logistical obstacles that might once have made such a facility difficult to establish. A low-impact, high-value research station is now a feasible proposition.

From dispute to cooperation

The current debate offers an opportunity to change the nature of the conversation.

Tamil Nadu’s concern for its fishermen is legitimate. Sri Lanka’s concern about illegal fishing and the degradation of its marine resources is equally legitimate. Treating one concern as valid and the other as an obstacle will not produce a durable solution.

Nor will repeatedly returning to the sovereignty question.

Instead, India and Sri Lanka should focus on the management of the Palk Bay as a shared ecological system. Joint scientific monitoring, conservation programmes and discussions on regulated and sustainable fishing could provide the basis for practical arrangements that protect livelihoods while phasing out destructive practices, such as bottom trawling.

Such cooperation would not require either country to compromise its sovereignty or its legal position.

It would require both to recognise that marine ecosystems do not respect political boundaries.

Science over sentiment

The Katchatheevu debate has continued for decades. The immediate concerns of detained fishermen and fishing communities must be addressed through established diplomatic and legal channels. But those measures cannot substitute for a long-term solution.

The real challenge is not simply who possesses Katchatheevu. It is whether the waters surrounding the island will continue to support the communities that depend on them.

For Sri Lanka, the answer should be neither rhetorical confrontation nor passive diplomacy. It should be science, responsible stewardship and constructive regional cooperation.

Katchatheevu need not remain a symbol of contention. Properly used, it could become a platform for marine research, environmental stewardship and sustainable cooperation between India and Sri Lanka.

(Milinda Moragoda is a founder of the Pathfinder Foundation, a strategic affairs think tank. tweets @MilindaMoragoda. email@milinda.org, courtesy of The Print)

Features

Rome:My First Diplomatic Assignment

Published

17 hours ago

2026/10/18

Thilina Walpola

(Excerpted from “Madam-Sir,” by Manel Abeysekera career and dilemmas of Ceylon’s first woman diplomat)

After the training in London I was assigned to our Embassy in Rome as Attache as I was still a probationer in the sense we needed to pass the First Efficiency Bar Examination plus acquire proficiency in the assigned foreign language within a period of three years before being designated Third Secretary. The Italians simply could not understand the meaning of “probationer” in my passport [which I do not think should have been in our passports] and always looked askance at me thinking I was out of jail on probation!

My Ambassador, Sir Arthur Ranasinha, much to my embarrassment [probably to his too], was my brother Lakshman’s father-in-law whom I used to address at home as “Uncle” and now had to address as “Excellency” in public. To my surprise, I made the transition quite easily and never made a faux pas. Sir Arthur and Lady Ranasinha insisted that I stay with them rather than at a hotel till I found an apartment. It was extremely kind of them, but I insisted, after the first few days, that I not travel with him in the official car but find my own way to the Embassy as I did not want the staff to think that I was being favoured by the Ambassador which would have been bad for both of us.

Little did I know that I would have only 10 months in Rome. I was grateful to Methodist College for my knowledge of Latin and Roman history as I wandered around the city having a closer look at places and monuments, some of which I had already seen on our family tour of Europe in 1950 ten years before. Once again I was able to treat myself to Grand Opera both in the magnificent Opera House as well as in the spectacular Baths of Caracalla. Art and architecture of such munificence was there for me to savour.

I think Rome is one of the most beautiful cities in the world and unique in the way that the old and the new blend naturally. Italy is the place to boost any woman’s ego especially if she were a foreigner because of the fun loving, romantic and gallant Italians to whom the chase was the thing rather than the capture! They seem to be able to spot a foreigner a mile off as happened to my English friend and flat mate from New Hall, Mary Anne Pritchard whom I had arranged to meet at the Memorial of Vittorio Emmanuele [the first King of Garibaldi’s united Italy], popularly known as “the wedding cake” as it had some tiers and was white in colour.

She had been a little ahead of time and, when I arrived on the scene, she was surrounded by a number of Romeos – wasn’t she glad to see me and be “rescued”! As I have observed, Italians have a nose for foreigners, whatever be their colour! I found it great fun as I had got used to it and as the Romeos were never dangerous and one could extricate oneself from them! On one occasion, when I was walking to the Embassy, two Romeos on a motor bike were insisting on giving me a ride when the Indian Ambassador drove past with flag flying and, seeing a woman in saree, put his head out of the car window and, in a flash the Romeos disappeared and I was able to proceed!

I feel that keeping up their reputation of being handsome Latin lovers was a cult with them! This seemed to be extended beyond belief as when I went to the telecommunication authority to pay the private portion of my telephone bill the officer who dealt with me who looked quite professional though young naturally came to know my telephone number. The next evening my delightful “daily” maid Maria asked me who was telephoning my apartment and asking for the “the princess” to whom she had firmly replied that there was no princess living there!

Subsequently when I answered such a call, I realized it was the official who had attended to my telephone bill! He professed a keen interest in the history and culture of Ceylon and wanted to come and learn all about it from me! I promptly told him that it was my male colleague in the Embassy that dealt with it – which was not really true – and that he was most welcome to meet him! As I expected, that cooled his ardour!

My senior colleague [he and I were the only diplomatic officers], Melville Fernando and his wife Shelagh took me under their wing and really looked after me. I fondly called him “Unkie” as he was quite avuncular to me and Shelagh “Agh Agh” and he called me Manuel Gomez! [shades of my Oxford tutor!]. Three Ceylonese who were in and out of the Embassy and who were sharing an apartment with Nada [A. Nadarajah] our Chief Clerk, were Lakdasa Hulugalle who was with FAO, a son of the former Ambassador – with whom I had stayed one night en route to Maratea to visit Maria my Italian friend from Cambridge — Mahinda Pethiyagoda [Peththa to his friends] and S.K Charles, both of whom were students.

They told me that they had seen me in my sitting-room through their sitting-room window. I simply did not believe them as they were great teasers, but when they described the saree I was wearing the previous day, it seemed convincing as I had not met them that day. So, when I went home, I looked out of the two windows of my apartment – the sitting-room one and my bedroom one and realized to my horror that it was in my bedroom that they had actually seen me and thanked my lucky stars that I had been fully clothed at the time. My bedroom window was directly below their sitting-room window as mine was on the ground floor and theirs on the first floor next door!

I had taken the first apartment I had seen within my rent ceiling as I was keen on moving out of the Ambassador’s residence, without bothering about who my neighbours were. After my discovery, I kept my bedroom window shuttered whenever I was in it. Soon after, my neighbours invited Melville, Shelagh and me to dinner and as I was only going next door, I did not bother to carry a handbag but put my set of keys and a handkerchief in my coat pocket. After dinner Melville and Shelagh insisted on seeing me home and luckily, before they left, I discovered that I did not have my key case and, thinking that the boys had taken it from my coat pocket after I had taken it off and hidden it, we went back to their apartment and demanded it.

They looked the picture of innocence and denied having hidden it and, fumbling in my coat pocket I realized that there was a hole in it through which the case could have dropped. Though we retraced our steps, with the boys joining in the search, we could not find it. The key case was an Indian one with a design on it and a zip and it may well have happened that someone could have picked it up thinking that it was a purse. I was able to get into my apartment with the Portiera’s [female porter] front door key.

Next day Melville organized the changing of the front door lock and that of my bedroom. Italians are rather like us: they are wont to do a job in fits and starts! So, when I got home that evening, I did not realize that though the front door lock had been changed, the bedroom one had one handle – only on the outside. After a shower and having had my dinner, I went into my room and having unwittingly allowed the door to close, I found that I could not open it from inside! As it was late, all I could do was to laugh myself to sleep!

Melville would always call for me on his way to the Embassy, and I woke up early and called him about my plight and asked him to come a little early so that I could throw him the key of my apartment door through my bedroom window so that he could enter and open my bedroom door where I was marooned! The good soul he was, he did so and got into the Portiera’s courtyard below my window from which I threw him the key. He made up his own funny version of it that he had to serenade me before I threw down the key, nor did he let me forget the episode!

Melville liked to take the mickey out of me and advised me to buy a Fiat Panic car. Knowing Latin I did not fall for it, but when he suggested that I buy a Super Cortomaggiore, I fell for it as I did not know that it was the Italian term for super petrol!

My Ambassador very thoughtfully let me handle FAO work and it was a great thrill for me to sit behind the Ceylon name board at meetings. The experience of getting to know the workings of a UN Specialised Agency stood me in good stead when I was accredited to ECAFE when I served in Bangkok. It also gave me entre to Dr. B.R. Sen, the Indian Director General of FAO. He even suggested that I join FAO but wisely advised that I should wait until I was more senior in my own Service so that I could join at a higher level.

An amusing incident involving Dr. and Mrs Sen comes to mind when I was back in Ceylon after Rome, and they visited as the guests of their friend, the Governor General Sir Oliver Goonetilleke. Since they knew me I was assigned the task of taking them to Kandy and Nuwara Eliya where we stayed at the Governor General’s Residence. Sir Oliver was a close friend of our family and as he considered Mother a lucky person, he used to come on the first of the year to partake of kiribath.

Needless to say, his recollection of me was as a young woman lacking in experience to handle the duty of looking after his illustrious friends. So he called the Manager of King’s Pavilion, Kandy to enquire after his friends and to advise me to make sure that they were offered drinks before dinner and the like. In Nuwara Eliya, H.M. Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip had stayed at Queen’s Cottage where we were to stay and while the Sens were accommodated in the room that had been used by the Queen, I was accommodated in the one next door which had been used by the Prince.

Before dinner I thought I would have a bath in the refurbished attached bathroom. Although it was December and quite cold, the warm water made me feel great but, as I was finishing my bath, I heard the telephone ring in the room; there was no time to dry myself and put on my dressing gown and so I wrapped a bath towel round me and, dripping wet and shivering, I dashed to the telephone and answered it. To my surprise it was Sir Oliver on the line, to enquire after his friends.

While Sir Oliver had a natural stammer, I too must have been stuttering because of the cold! As soon as the call ended, I buzzed the operator and asked from whom the call had been as I thought that perhaps my brother was pulling my leg! But the operator’s shocked reply was that it was the “Uthumanan” and had I not recognized his voice! Wasn’t I glad and relieved that I had responded correctly! My brother, who when told the tale, assured me he would never have pulled my leg when I was on official duty!

My first experience of a cocktail reception was in Rome and so was my introduction to the popular Italian aperatif Campari. It was popular as a long drink with soda or orange juice or as a cocktail called negroni mixed with vodka. The deep crimson colour of the negroni made me reach for it, but one sip of it and I never tasted it again – so bitter was it on my tongue. Campari was one of the few drinks I was unfamiliar with as Father was a connoisseur of both liquors as well as liqueurs and taught me much of what I know; however, it was in Rome that I became acquainted with Italian aperitifs like Campari and the finer points of wines, their vintages and “bouquet”.

I must say that I enjoyed every moment of my stay in Italy and everyone in the Embassy was most kind and helpful and, apart from the Ambassador and his wife, Melville and Shelagh, there were others like Ornella Gulmanelli, a secretary who was always so caring and with whom I am in touch and see whenever I go to Rome, as well as others outside the Embassy like Nelson Fernando, Director of the Ceylon Tea Centre, who was great fun and had a lovely tenor voice, and whom we called Nelsone and his Italian wife.

My young girl friend Nelun de Silva whose step father Mr. Williams was with FAO and whose mother would allow her only to spend a night or week end with me in my apartment and, of course, both of us became and still are good friends as also with her husband Selvan Mather.

We had a lot of fun together but I had a problem of keeping the Italian Romeos away from her as she was and still is beautiful! We took a photograph together and titled it “Manel Nelun ha!” as in the famous “Danno Budunge”! One of my treats was to have been taken by Nelun’s parents to the Verdi Opera “Aida” staged at the Baths of Caracalla, where the Triumphal March was depicted with horses and chariots on stage – a most spectacular scene.

During my term in Rome, I had the joy of being in Venice to organize our stall at the Venice Biennale of Art, and taking time to visit the old Palace and St. Mark’s Cathedral. While in Rome, I sat for the First Efficiency Bar Examination and passed it – two years ahead of time – which resulted in my becoming a “passed Probationer” with the promoted rank of Third Secretary. This meant that as the Mission had no financial cadre provision to have more than one Third Secretary it could not pay my salary and I had to be transferred out.

I was extremely sad to end my “Roman Holiday” as it were. My Ambassador told me that he felt this would happen but that he did not tell me so as he thought that I might postpone sitting the Examination and as he felt it was not good for my career since he believed that young officers should get over examinations as soon as possible. I was given a farewell by the Embassy and I recall that the cork of the Champagne bottle popped, flew out and landed on my head! This I was assured was a lucky omen! I was given not surprisingly a cocktail shaker as a parting gift!

The only reason that I was glad to get home was that Mother had had a stroke. Yet Father advised me to accept New Delhi if offered as he thought it would be a good experience and, in any case, I would not be far from home. But that was not fulfilled as the Government was economising on foreign exchange and, alas, I never had the chance of serving in India which I have always considered is the cornerstone of our foreign policy.

So I took the sea route to Colombo from Naples, where Melville and Nada took me. A lasting, appropriate memory of the Italian character and of my departure was the lunch we had of very good fish, with Melville ordering three portions of the same for each of us. However, when the bill was brought, he noticed that he had been overcharged as it was not divisible by three; when questioned, the waiter smiled disarmingly and asked Melville whether he had not noticed that the lady had been served a “beeg fish”!