Features
Dudley Senanayake takes over, my relations with Mrs. B deteriorates
(Excerpted from Rendering Unto Caesar by Bradman Weerakoon)
Dudley Senanayake was not only the youngest to serve as prime minister (he was 41 years old when called upon to do so by the Governor-General Lord Soulbury and succeeded his father D S in 1952) but also the one who had to fill the position the most number of times. The second occasion was after winning the election he called in 1952 and the third, the shortest tenure, after narrowly winning in March 1960. He actually went through the formal swearing-in ceremony before the governor general four times.
Now in 1965, fully matured after five years as leader of the opposition to Sirimavo’s first administration, he was back in office at the head of an assorted seven-party national government.’ It was called contemptuously by his opponents the ‘hath havula’ (in simple English, ‘the devil’s brew’). But he had a comfortable majority if he could hold the coalition together.
The UNP alone under his leadership had won 66 seats, and with the help of the Federal Party (14 seats), the SLFSP C P de Silva’s breakaway group from the SLFP (five seats), the Tamil Congress (three seats) and one each from the MEP, LPP and JVP not the Janata Vomukti Peramuna(which was yet to emerge, but the’Jatika’ Vimukti Peramuna of KMP Rajaratne) he was well ahead of Mrs Bandaranaike whose SLFP had won 41 seats.
This time, hardened by the long spell in the opposition, Dudley was a different being. I found him pugnacious and much more confident. The challenge of running a fractious team which included for the first time in government, the Federal Party in addition to such well known mavericks as Iriyagolle and Dahanayake (now resurrected from Galle) and the redoubtable Philip Gunawardene kept the adrenaline running. I knew I was going to enjoy the trip if I could stay the course. The problem was whether I could, or would be allowed to, considering the background of my close association for the past five years with the administration of Sirimavo Bandaranaike.
There were strong forces at work to have me out and replaced with someone more close to the UNP. My first sense of this was when I presented myself at the swearing-in ceremony of the new prime minister and Cabinet at Queens House before the Governor-General William Gopallawa. He had been Sirimavo’s choice soon after the abortive coup d’etat of 1962. Dudley was charming and greeted me in his usual cheery way but there were many black looks from the other UNP supporters around him.
The feisty Wimala Kannangara, soon to be a deputy minister in the new government, characteristically forthright but not with too much hostility, greeted me with, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you Mrs Bandaranaike’s blue-eyed boy?” Actually, this was the first time I had heard myself being called so. In the five years that he had been in the opposition I had seen Dudley only once or twice once at a DPL reception and the second time at his home when I called to condole with him on the death of his mother.
On the latter occasion I walked with the other mourners to Kanatte from his Woodlands home.
The swearing-in encounter was not the end of the matter. A week or two later, after I started working with Dudley, he appeared unusually serious one morning. He inquired of me whether I had been seeing Mrs Bandaranaike recently. I said I hadn’t. He laughed and said he was only checking because a delegation led by a very prominent monk associated with the UNP, the Ven’ble Malewana Gnanissara, had told him in all seriousness that they had information that I was seen recently at Rosmead Place in deep conversation with Mrs Bandaranaike. Dudley in his characteristic way accepted what I said, also adding that he had no problem with my meeting her socially, if I so desired and was certain that I would keep that within limits. This made me all the more convinced that I should avoid seeing her at all, even if social events were to bring us together.
About a month later, Dudley told me that he had had another group come to him with a similar story of my meeting Sirimavo. He had reprimanded them and said that if he believed all the stories which were coming to him about his officials, he would have only Carolis his valet left to work for him. This was the end of the matter but is illustrative of the campaign of ‘tale carrying’ that is rampant in the country and viciously erupts, especially at times of transition.
My relations with Mrs Bandaranaike begin to deteriorate
It had been a tearful farewell when Sirimavo left Temple Trees after Dudley had been sworn in as leader of the National Government. He had generously passed the word round that since 65 Rosmead Place was not immediately available, the house having been rented out to the Egyptian ambassador at the time, she could, if she wished, stay on at TT for a while. Sirimavo did not take advantage of the offer, made other arrangements and left within a few days.
She hoped, in her final conversations, that Dudley would not deal too harshly with me for having served her government so closely. I replied that I did not think he would because I had worked with him earlier and, moreover, I did not really mind being transferred out-station after 10 continuous years in Colombo. I even hoped it would be Puttalam where I could begin to plant coconut on a 25-acre block of jungle land a group of us public servants had got on leasehold some years earlier.
The only request she made of me was that a Ms Soma Bandaranaike whom she had appointed as manageress at TT would be kept on, as she needed the income the job gave her. I undertook to do my best. One morning soon after Dudley Senanayake took over, Mrs Bandaranaike spoke with me on the telephone about the manageress of Temple Trees who had been brought in during her time. This was Soma Dias Bandaranaike who was a relative and had done a good job if keeping the cooks and house boys in control.
Soma filled a permanent post but since she had come in by personal selection, she should normally have left with the change of government. However, she hadn’t any other job to go to and Mrs Bandaranaike suggested that if I could, she might be kept on. However, Dudley had his own ideas about who should manage the household and had been able to persuade a friend, a highly qualified and responsible retired health department administrative secretary, one Wijesuriya to take on the job.
He was really overqualified to be manager of TT but since the prime minister wanted him to be there and `Wije’ was willing, there was nothing to be done but give Soma a month’s notice and ask her to find some other job. Getting Soma out and putting Mr Wijesuriya in, caused some concern to Mrs Bandaranaike and I could sense the petulance when she called me. She, only half in jest, asked whether Dudley wanted the coast clear to bring in one of his girl friends. It was the first difficult conversation I had with her and I did not think I had managed that particular encounter at all well.
Leaders of the National Government discuss the DDCs
Dudley’s first priority was to cement relations with his new allies of the Federal Party. It was the first time in history that a national party representing the Tamil community was in partnership with the majority community in governing the country. Over the three years that the FP was in the cabinet, Dudley tried hard to make his concept of district development councils work. The DDCs would include all the members of Parliament in the district and would be vested with sufficient powers to exercise limited autonomy in critical areas of public concern.
But in attempting to take away powers from the central line ministers and pass them down to the districts he found himself thwarted by most ministers. No one was willing to give up anything. They wanted all the powers for themselves. The notion of devolution or subsidiarity was not yet in their thinking at all.
The discussions on the subjects and functions which might be devolved, under the direction and control of the central government, were often heated and tempers rose especially in the cross-talk between the Federal Party and the Tamil Congress. Once in the middle of a serious discussion where the intriguing subject of elimination of pests and noxious plants was being discussed at great length, and whether this subject should come under the DDC of the central government, G G Ponnambalam, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, remarked that the subject might be better amended to read elimination of pests and noxious persons and given to the DDC, directing his look straight at Dr Naganathan. Naganathan who was not given to taking things lying down literally exploded in rage.
Features
Addressing human rights needs multi-pronged approach
by Jehan Perera
The ongoing 63rd session of the United Nations Human Rights Council, which runs from September 7 to October 7, 2026, in Geneva is important to Sri Lanka. Its outcome will send a signal to other international actors, including the European Union, as to whether Sri Lanka’s reform policy is on track. The written update on Sri Lanka, prepared by the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights under High Commissioner Volker Türk and presented by Deputy High Commissioner Nada Al-Nashif, has taken a more holistic approach to the government’s performance over the past year. It acknowledged the progress Sri Lanka has made under the NPP government in relation to accountability for financial fraud and other economic crimes. At the same time, the High Commissioner’s update made clear that progress in relation to economic crime cannot be equated with progress in relation to accountability for grave human rights violations committed during the armed conflict and in other periods of political violence.
The government may have felt sufficiently confident that its response to the High Commissioner’s update could be handled by its representative in Geneva and did not require the attendance of Foreign Minister Vijitha Herath. Sri Lanka’s representative Sumith Dassanayake called for a fundamental review of country-specific mandates within the UN Human Rights Council. Sri Lanka has been facing repeated scrutiny in the form of successive UNHRC resolutions from 2012 onwards. Ambassador Dassanayake argued that such mandates should not continue indefinitely and must be regularly assessed against measurable objectives and tangible outcomes. This may reflect confidence that its record of reform is beginning to receive recognition internationally. The reports and statements at the Human Rights Council acknowledged progress in the government’s efforts to address corruption and economic crime.
The government’s anti-corruption drive has included investigations into allegations involving individuals who held the highest political offices in the country. The arrest of former President Ranil Wickremesinghe in connection with alleged misuse of public funds, and the investigation into the controversial SriLankan Airlines Airbus transaction involving former President Mahinda Rajapaksa’s son, are examples of the reach of these investigations. The arrest of SLPP National Organiser and Member of Parliament Namal Rajapaksa in connection with allegations relating to the Airbus purchase scandal has also demonstrated that the government is willing to pursue cases involving politically powerful figures.
Wide Range
The ongoing investigations appear to encompass a wide range of parliamentarians and government members, both past and present. They suggest that accountability for corruption is not being confined to lower-level officials or to individuals who lack political influence. This is precisely the kind of accountability that the public has long demanded and that previous governments have too often failed to deliver. The government is also reaching into the upper levels of the military hierarchies of the past. The case in which 11 young men, most of them Tamil, disappeared after being abducted in Colombo between 2008 and 2009 involved allegations that some families were asked to pay ransoms. The investigation into this case has reached senior military figures. The willingness to pursue such cases is important because it challenges the assumption that those who exercised power during the war are beyond the reach of the law. Such cases would provide a practical test of whether the government’s commitment to accountability for economic crimes is part of a broader commitment to the rule of law.
Success in prosecuting corruption cannot substitute for justice for those who were unlawfully killed, disappeared, tortured or otherwise victimised. The UN report noted that there had been no recognition or accountability for crimes under international law, gross human rights violations and serious violations of international humanitarian law committed by all parties during the war. The government has yet to establish a credible and effective process to address the many cases of enforced disappearance, extrajudicial killing, torture and other serious violations. The government needs to take the international commitments it has inherited on human rights issues seriously. It needs to adopt a multi-pronged approach and go beyond focusing primarily on financial and corruption-related accountability.
Need Action
As a member of the international community, Sri Lanka has a responsibility to abide by the commitments it has made. It cannot selectively uphold international obligations postponing those that are politically difficult. Also, as a small country, Sri Lanka has a self-interest in ensuring the survival of international law, which is all that it has to protect it from the depredations of the bigger international actors. The erosion of international law by powerful states makes it all the more important that smaller states uphold the principles on which the international system is based. Sri Lanka cannot credibly appeal to international law when it is threatened from outside while disregarding its own obligations within. Sri Lanka also needs to win the confidence of its own population that it is committed to justice and equality for all. Public opinion polls and community-level research have disclosed that ethnic and religious minorities are appreciative of the sense of greater security they enjoy under the present government from ethnic or religious extremists.
But a sense of security is not the same as the fulfilment of rights. As far as the Tamil people are concerned, the government has yet to deliver on several of its specific promises. These include the long-standing problems of missing persons, the release of political prisoners who have been members of Tamil militant organisations, and the return of land taken over for military purposes during the war. The issue of Buddhist statues and archaeological sites found on their properties which are then taken from their control continue to trouble them especially as they see no signs of resolution of those disputes. The issue of pastureland in the east of the country in Mylathamadu is particularly concerning to them as they see orders by successive presidents, both President Ranil Wickremesinghe and President Anura Kumara Dissanayake, being disregarded on the ground. The Mylathamadu pastureland dispute is where traditional Tamil dairy farmers have engaged in multi-year protests against the ongoing encroachment of their ancestral grazing lands by Sinhalese crop cultivators relocated under government development schemes.
The government’s failure to hold Provincial Council elections is particularly troubling. The provincial council system is the only one that can provide the Tamil people and other ethnic minorities the opportunity to wield political power and exercise a measure of self-determination in the areas in which they are the numerical majority. The continued postponement of Provincial Council elections therefore has consequences that go beyond an ordinary electoral delay. It deprives communities of an important constitutional avenue for democratic participation and power-sharing. The ethnic and religious minorities appreciate what the government is doing in the larger national interest, but they must not be made to feel that their special concerns are being ignored. The government cannot resolve Sri Lanka’s entire legacy of rights violations overnight. But it does need to demonstrate that it is willing to move forward on multiple fronts, not only on a few.
Features
The emptying university: why are academics leaving?
by Hasini Lecamwasam
Brain drain in Sri Lanka is at an all-time high. The latest Human Flight and Brain Drain Index for 2024 shows that we are 16th of 175 countries on this count, and first in South Asia. That this is a crisis goes without saying. Brain drain affects all sectors, and is a huge strain on the resources of a developing country. Particularly in Sri Lanka, where considerable public investment is made in the moulding of professionals through the system of free education, this amounts to transferring the resources of poorer countries to richer ones with top migration destinations. It is, therefore, important to consider the push and pull factors behind skilled outmigration, specifically from the public university system of Sri Lanka, a key focus of the Kuppi column.
From frustration to exit
Several bitter realities in our crumbling public university system act as push factors in the migration decisions of academics. Many essays on this column have, over several years, attempted to highlight numerous aspects of this erosion. Perhaps, primary among them is the lack of adequate funding, which has debilitating ramifications for the system: very little investment is made in the up-keep of infrastructure (and even less in its expansion), resulting in serious constraints in accommodating growing batches of students and the wellbeing of the staff (particularly in regional universities); research funding is negligible, severely curtailing academics’ ability to effectively discharge their primary duty of teaching which should ideally be informed by their research (and the research of others, access to which is also, unfortunately, mediated by funding); a funding crunch also means a slash in (or greater constraints on) recruitments, increasing the workloads of academics, currently in service, and eating into the quality of their teaching and research.
What recruitments are done frustrate those with any faith in merit. As many of our interventions in this column have shown, recruitment processes are characterised by archaic selection criteria that place very little weight on a candidate’s postgraduate growth and the advantages of interdisciplinary training. Added to this is the general preference for ‘culturally compliant’ candidates who would not rock the boat too much. The combined effect is that those with the capacity and spirit to try out innovations in education are discouraged from joining or staying on in the public university system. Some, or many, of them may instead seek appointments abroad.
A thread that binds all of these problems together is pervasive hierarchy which, again, many interventions on this column have sought to highlight. It is the interest in preserving hierarchy that leads to the preference for alumni in recruitment processes. Hierarchy within universities can be particularly frustrating for younger faculty and women, who typically have to bear the brunt of the workload of their senior, often male, colleagues. In a context of funding, and, therefore, recruitment, restrictions, this translates into a disproportionate burden being placed on junior (usually female) faculty, seriously hindering their prospects of growing into successful academics due to the time constraints within which they have to operate. Junior academics, therefore, are more likely to look to educational institutions abroad for what they hope would be a different work culture that respects them more.
Ideological ruses
On top of these structural frustrations are also the workings of neoliberal ideology. For one, the nature of relations between the global metropole and peripheral countries like Sri Lanka largely dictates what is desirable and what is not. The apparent lifestyles of Western countries – from food to clothing, housing, appliances, and so on – have continued to lure people from the periphery with the promise of a ‘better’ life, alongside better career advancement opportunities. This, of course, masks much of the struggle that goes on behind the scenes to survive in Western societies. For instance, in most cases highly attractive public infrastructure such as roads, public transport, clean air, quality control of food, and so on belie the astronomical privatised costs of healthcare and education. Health insurance is usually mandatory and steep in most high-income settings, while even subsidised education (for which eligibility criteria are strict) creates a serious dent in household earnings. Of course, the happy images of glossy trams and gleeful international travellers don’t convey this.
A second ideological ruse is the myth of greater opportunities and recognition abroad. While there is no denying that local skilled sectors – be it higher education, health, civil service, or private white-collar positions – are replete with issues that inhibit merit-based professional advancement, the notion that things are fundamentally different in Western countries stems from an uninformed optimism. As is now increasingly known and discussed, Western labour markets are notoriously racialised, and equivalent skills are rarely treated as such. Instead, it is usually demanded that skilled migrants clear certain formal examinations in their host countries. In fields like medicine, this is followed by an interview that may also be racially prejudiced. Once these initial steps are cleared, remuneration reverts to square one irrespective of experience accumulated abroad, not to mention the many subtle aggressions, rejections, and trials one has to go through in the negotiation of everyday life. In the many cases where professional qualifications are used as leverage for a move abroad, sights are set on a better future for one’s children, which again is informed by the misplaced faith in greater opportunities and a lack of awareness of the factors outlined above. Needless to say, in the global swing to the Right, things have become even more challenging. In such a context, considering the few rare cases where skilled migrants live extremely comfortable lives as the norm becomes a dangerous misconception.
The two ideological pull factors mentioned above are complemented by a push factor, which has to do with a highly classed understanding of what a white-collar professional is due in their society. Many of these aspirations are clearly articulated in academic trade union action demanding separate quotas for school entry, increased fuel allowances, winning back the presently stalled vehicle permit scheme, salary hikes, and so on. While working people have every right to agitate for better material conditions, insofar as it remains unconnected to a broader movement for improving the conditions of the lot of the working class, it remains self-serving and very much within the class logic of capitalist society. Since these demands are articulated as a means of maintaining distinction, it is clear that they are not envisaged as part of a class movement. The frustration of not having these needs for distinction satisfied may push some to seek greener pastures abroad, at least financially, (perhaps as a means of social mobility based on it), only to be disappointed on most occasions.
What is to be done?
Addressing the systemic push factors listed above requires, first and foremost, greater allocations for free public higher education. This would immediately translate into more recruitments and less work per academic, and better research and teaching in the long haul. An increase in funding would also ideally lead to greater infrastructural investments, especially including improving the living conditions of those who work in regional universities amid untold hardships. Next, fairer, more creative, and, therefore, more effective recruitment policies are badly needed to attract talented individuals to university positions. Rather than carving out a ‘special category’ for academics to achieve this purpose, which is informed by a classed logic, this needs to be done through fundamental reforms in recruitment processes. Third, a persistent attack on the entrenched hierarchy within universities through internal reform is much called for. Reforming recruitment practices will go a long way towards addressing this. Measures should also be taken to introduce more stringent policies against SGBV (not to mention ragging, even though it is not directly connected to brain drain). Such measures would create a safer, fairer, and more attractive workplace, which would give more reasons for people to stay.
On top of greater allocations, we also need a transformation of our aspirations themselves if this situation is to change. That necessitates a kind of education capable of questioning the ‘paradise’ conception of Western societies, and lays bare their colonial material and ideological dimensions, in both their historical and contemporary manifestations. These colonial understandings of the ‘good life’, moreover, have devastating ecological implications for the planet, not to mention social justice. An education with the ability to transform this mindset would hopefully prove to be more than a mere path to social mobility, rather being a tool of social emancipation that renders mobility moot.
(Hasini Lecamwasam is with the Department of Political Science, University of Peradeniya)
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
Features
Friends favourite Suzi Croner returns for Oktoberfest 2026
Charming audiences in Switzerland as Suzi Flückiger, Sri Lanka’s own Suzi Croner is coming home… for a very special occasion.
The bubbly former frontline vocalist of 90s band Friends will take the stage at a popular venue in Colombo for Oktoberfest 2026.
Known in Europe for her country and classic hits, Suzi has remained a much-loved name back home. This will be a rare chance for local fans to see her live and celebrate the voice behind so many Friends memories.
Oktoberfest 2026 in Colombo promises an evening of live music, traditional Bavarian food and beer, colourful dirndls and lederhosen, folk dancing, and plenty of community cheer.

Suzi Croner (Flückiger)
Against this lively backdrop, Suzi will take the stage for a special solo set, featuring her own pre-recorded music. She performed at the event last year too, as a solo artiste, but a German band providing the music.
This year, however she says, it’s a different scene.
“The novel attraction will be the dancers from Germany — all girls, clad in German outfits,” Suzi said. She added that the event will also highlight the activities generally connected with Oktoberfest, which should generate a lot of fun and excitement for those who join her in Colombo next month.
Suzi has become a much-in-demand artiste in Europe, and has even performed Down Under, in Melbourne.
In Switzerland, where she has been based for the past 42 years, she continues to charm audiences with country and classic hits, performing at private events and community nights across Europe.
“My weekends are generally loaded with my work as a singer,” she said. “And I also play tennis three times a week, because I need to keep fit to entertain my audience in an active way.”
Her repertoire is made up mainly of Swiss, German and English songs.
And true to form, Suzi loves springing surprises.
“So watch out when you join me at Oktoberfest 2026, in Colombo!” she said.
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