Features

Early employment and the move to Colombo

Published

7 months ago

2025/06/22

CHAPTER 6

The 1920s in Sri Lanka was a period of excitement and change. Politically there was significant movement after many decades of stagnation… [S]ocially… there were breaches in traditional hierarchies and practices. Some… who in earlier times had little say in society for class and caste reasons, achieved high status positions… and middleclass women shocked the orthodox.

(de Alwis & Jayawardena, 2001, pp.1 & 5)

An Uncertain Future

After leaving St. Aloysius’, NU seemed to be uncertain about his future, and initially applied for a job as a teacher:

When I was 16, in 1924, I did not know what to do and I thought the best thing would be to teach. My father had come at this time to Tangalle, which is our ancestral home. I stayed with my parents after leaving school and I decided to apply for a teaching post at the same school [St. Mary’s] in which I had my education. (interview by Manel Abhayaratne)

NU’s application was accepted and he was hired. However, since NU was underage, he could not be registered and his salary was paid out of the principal’s own pocket. NU stayed with his uncle who was working in the Hambantota Kachcheri. NU still did not give up his desire to study:

I wanted to pursue my studies but I wanted to do it by studying by myself. There was a series of books advertised by a London tutorial college and I decided to get them down and study to further my qualifications. (ibid)

According to NU, his father was anxious that he join the public service and follow in the footsteps of his uncle (who was later appointed Kachcheri Mudaliyar of the Hambantota Kachcheri); and it

was due to his father’s persuasion that he applied for the post of clerk in the District Roads Committee (DRC). NU further explained the events leading to his entry into the clerical service:

Mr. Frank Leach, Assistant Government Agent, had set the qualifying papers. We all handed over the papers and went back. About a month later I learned that I had answered the papers very well and had got pass marks, but pressure had been brought on the Assistant Government Agent, to recommend someone else who was a relation of the then Mudaliyar. (ibid)

The final decision, however, rested with the Government Agent himself, Mr. Millington, who insisted that the man who had obtained the best results in the examination, NU, should be appointed

to the DRC at a salary of Rs. 27.50 a month. Incidentally, this salary was significantly less than the Rs. 40 he received when teaching at St. Mary’s.

This was perhaps the first occasion when NU came face to face with social realities and favouritism in the system, which could on occasion ignore merit and reward social position. Thus began NU’s

career, which was to take him first, up and down the Southern Province in various posts, and finally, to join the Ruhuna diaspora in Colombo. The District Roads Committee was set up in 1862 to oversee the construction and maintenance of minor roads. It was funded with one third of the money collected from the Road Tax. Committees were set up in each district, and each consisted of the Government Agent or Assistant Government Agent of the district and the District Engineer, along with three other elected members from the European, Burgher or other ‘native’ communities. Significantly, the DRC was the first local body to follow the elective principle (Saparamadu, in Woolf, 1962, p.1xiii-iv).

Back to School

As mentioned above, NU was not particularly interested in applying for the job at the DRC and did so only at his father’s insistence. He soon tired of this minor post, and against his father’s wishes took up a teaching position at his old school, St. Servatius’ College, Matara. NU lodged at the school catechist’s home in the Fort, Matara – as he had done earlier when a student there. He coached the catechist’s son and, to please his father, prepared both for the Clerical Service and Matriculation examinations.

NU soon moved on from St. Servatius’ when a job opportunity opened up at the leading Buddhist boys’ school in the Southern Province – Mahinda College, Galle. To reach the school, NU had to

again travel daily by train, and as in the past, he continued to use the train and the station waiting room as his ‘study.’ He had to take the early train to reach Galle from Matara, and for the return journey:

“He would reach Matara station in the dark, settle down in the Third-Class waiting room and study by the dim light from the oil lamp which hung down from a beam in the room” (de Zoysa manuscript, p.59).

NU also studied while ‘on the move,’ as an amusing anecdote related by Lucien de Zoysa shows: “he used to read while walking after school, creating a stir among those walking on the [Matara]

ramparts when they saw a young man oblivious of all and everything except the open book in his hand.” As de Zoysa notes: “reading… [and] studying… [were] more than second nature to him. It was all of him and he spent every moment he could, studying for both the Matriculation and Clerical Service examinations” (de Zoysa manuscript, pp.57-58).The principal of Mahinda at that time was P.R. Gunasekara, who had succeeded the earlier distinguished foreign principals.

The school, founded by the Buddhist Theosophical Society, was initially funded by Thomas de Silva Amarasuriya and his son Henry Woodward Amarasuriya, both important plantation-owners, businessmen and liquor merchants from the Southern Province. In Mahinda College two tendencies prevailed, namely, dedication to Buddhist causes and local history and culture, along with a modern education in English. Two foreign principals of the school had also set the tone for liberal political awareness. The first was the Theosophist F.L. Woodward, an Oxford-educated Pali scholar who had translated

sections of the Pali Canon, and who was closely associated with Colonel Olcott. He was the founding Principal of the College, serving from 1903 to 1919. The second, Gordon Pearce who served as Woodward’s Vice-Principal, was also a Theosophist and British Labour Party supporter, who became Principal in 1921.

In contrast to Christian schools, Buddhist schools such as Mahinda College encouraged a national awareness and exposed students to Indian nationalism. In 1922 visitors to the school included persons linked to the Indian independence movement, such as Rabindranath Tagore, Sarojini Naidu, Rev. C.H. Andrews (a British supporter of Gandhi), and Annie Besant, a leading Theosophist and advocate of Indian Home Rule. Significantly, the sessions of the Ceylon National Congress were held at Mahinda College in 1926; and at the 1927 prize-giving, Mahatma Gandhi was the chief guest:

“The Olcott Hall was filled to capacity. Never was there such a large gathering of Buddhists, Hindus and Christians to pay homage”

(Norah Roberts, 1993, pp.154 & 156).

NU may have been present at some of these historic events. In his student days, NU had moved from Hambantota to Matara and then to Galle. The process was reversed after he passed his Senior

Cambridge and began his career, when he first moved back to Hambantota, then to Matara and Galle. There was thus some mobility in NU’s life at this stage, with his progression from school to school and job to job, although limited to the Southern Province.

In the process, both at St. Aloysius’ and Mahinda College, NU was fortunate to have interacted with excellent teachers. They were men of dedication and generosity, some famous scholars, some politically committed to an anti-colonial agenda.

Early Days in Colombo

In 1926, NU also passed the London Matriculation (in the First Division) as a private student, passing in Mathematics, which he had failed at the Senior Cambridge. Another important event in

his life was his success at the General Clerical Services Examination in 1926, followed by his posting to the Public Works Department (PWD) in Colombo as a Class 2 clerk on a monthly salary of Rs.75. Getting into the Class 2 category was a significant advance from which NU never looked back. His father was so pleased he gave NU a 50-rupee note. According to family folklore, NU looked at it and pointed to the note’s signature of W.W. Woods, the Colonial Secretary, and asked,

“Why can’t I sign a note like this?” – thereby provoking much amusement in his family.

The PWD, formed in 1867, consisting of a director and provincial engineers, was responsible for construction and maintenance of government-constructed buildings, roads, ferries, and resthouses

(Woolf, 1962, p.lxxi). Until the early 1930s, the top administrators and executives, who ran the various government departments, were almost exclusively British; while the essential routine work in the office was handled by local clerks who were hierarchically just above peons (now called ‘minor employees’), performing the lowliest work in the offices. As noted earlier, to become a clerk in the government service was the main ambition of most young men whose parents were neither professionals, wealthy businessmen nor large landowners. NU, when he passed his clerical examination, had achieved the aspirations of many families from his background, namely to have a family member in the prestigious government service, which would elevate the family’s social standing.

NU had been to Colombo only twice before, to sit examinations, staying in one of Maradana’s cheap lodging-houses for young workingmen, known as ‘chummeries.’ On his move to Colombo as a clerk in the Public Works Department, he worked at its head office in the Fort, and lived in a ‘boarding house’ on Forbes Lane in Maradana, run by Dickman de Mel. The transport between Maradana and Fort was by tramway or train.

NU gave tuition to de Mel’s nephews in exchange for lodging – a similar arrangement to what he had done when he stayed with the St. Servatius’ catechist. Released from paying for his lodgings in Colombo, NU was able to bring his youngest brother Peter to Colombo. NU, who held thwarted ambitions to be a doctor, was keen to see his brother enter the medical profession. Peter stayed at the boarding house, with NU paying his fees and enrolling him in the leading Catholic school, St. Joseph’s College, just near Forbes Lane. Later, Peter Jayawardena, benefiting from the education he received, entered the Medical College, later becoming a well-known gynaecologist and obstetrician.

In Sri Lanka, supporting family members has long been a tradition. It is expected and even taken for granted that family members, including those from the extended family, would assist and support each other – especially to help brighter children pursue their studies.

NU’s strong family ties and his willingness to assist his relations were evident at all times. NU, who himself continued to benefit from such family support in later years, managed, with assistance from his future father-in-law, Norman Wickramasinghe, to get his brother David a job in the Government Stores. NU also helped arrange marriages for his younger sisters and was always present at family weddings, often being the attesting witness for his nieces and nephews on such occasions. This was all part of the close family network. NU’s success in entering the clerical service enabled him to move

from minor jobs in the Southern Province, to the capital city. ‘Go West, Young Man!’ was a popular US slogan for ambitious settlers moving westwards to California in the 19th century. In Sri Lanka, in the early 20th century, ‘Go West’ meant moving to the Western Province – and to the city of Colombo.

Public Works Department

Colombo in the Late 1920s

There had been a rapid population growth in Colombo, which in 1911 had more than 200,000 inhabitants, an increase of 30% since 1901. Urbanization was fast occurring, with a drift from the countryside to the towns. Though the transfer was not large enough to alter the demographic balance, and the country remained overwhelmingly rural, urban centres expanded considerably. In the economy, these were years of boom in the mid-1920s, then a severe economic depression in the early 1930s. One important development of this period was the expanded infrastructure of roads, railways and port facilities, along with banks, shops, offices and government departments, typical of a colonial economy. This meant employing increasing numbers of manual workers and government servants at all levels, many of them – like NU – originally from the outlying provinces.

The move from Galle to Colombo would have been somewhat daunting for NU, as he was now very far from home, no longer within the secure confines of his family and relatives. At the same time, he would have felt a measure of excitement and expectation at being in the political and commercial capital of the island, where the local elite and the colonial establishment lived and worked, patronizing its restaurants, clubs and hotels. The city of Galle for all its charm could not be compared to the economic and social activity, excitement and bright lights of Colombo. From 1926 to 1929, NU eked out a living in Colombo as a clerk, living frugally in a poor neighbourhood, but observing the activities and life of the city in the heyday of the island’s economic prosperity of the 1920s. This period of NU’s residence in Colombo, however, was also an era of political and social change alongside emerging movements of dissent.

Politics in the 1920s

Politically there had been very little change before the 1920s. The legislature up to 1911 continued to be composed of European ‘officials’ and a few others known as ‘unofficials’ appointed by the Governor to represent the different local ethnic communities and business interests. A nationalist ferment was lacking, as radical political dissent and activism had subsided after the Rebellion of 1848. In 1864, however, a few Members of the Legislative Council, notably Charles Lorenz (whose family was from Matara), had led a vote of ‘unofficials’ against the government and subsequently walked out of the legislature. This group started the Ceylon League, to campaign

First Letter of Appointment as a clerk in the Public Works Department

for political reform.

While there was no mass-based political agitation in the 19^th century, some moderate political reform of the constitution was demanded by the emerging local political leaders. In 1919 the Ceylon National Congress was formed, with Sir Ponnambalam Arunachalam as President, to press for more representation, wider franchise rights and an elected legislature. Under the Manning Reforms granted in 1920, a Legislative Council was established with elections on a limited (4%) male franchise. But although some further reforms were demanded, there was no agitation comparable to the militant nationalism that developed in India in the 1920s.

The nature of the local opposition to colonialism reflected a certain economic weakness. Local capitalism was based on accumulation in plantations, the liquor trade and graphite mining – areas where there were few confrontations with colonial interests. In contrast to India, there was no major clash with colonialism in the market place – the ‘school’ where, it is said, a bourgeoisie learns its nationalism. Although national feeling was not militant, communal tensions based on economic considerations arose. There was some criticism of the influence of Indian merchants, South Indian Chettiar moneylenders and other non-Sinhala traders, who by their extraterritorial

interests or economic domination, were seen as a threat to the Sinhala trader. Competition for the limited number of jobs in government service also led to some tension between Sinhalese and

Tamils in the public sector.

But dissent grew and there were some social upheavals. Members of many ‘lower’ castes entered politics and emerged as radical labour leaders, to the consternation of those belonging to ‘higher’ castes. Women also created a stir by agitating for the right to vote – led by the Women’s Franchise Union, formed in 1927. Universal suffrage – including votes for women – was obtained in 1931, and by 1932 there were two women in the legislature. The ‘new women’ of the period shocked traditional society.

They began to participate in politics, making demands for women’s franchise, and caused a sensation by driving cars, riding bicycles, wearing short skirts, bobbing their hair, socializing and dancing with men in public. They also entered University College, and moved into new avenues of employment, including the medical and legal professions (de Alwis & Jayawardena, 2001, p.5).

There was other excitement too. When NU came to Colombo in the mid-1920s, the Ceylon Labour Union led by A.E. Goonesinha was at the height of its popularity among Colombo’s workers.

A general strike in the government and private sectors had occurred in 1923, followed by militant strikes in the Colombo port (1927), tramways (1929), and numerous other places of work. The tramway strike was particularly aggressive, resulting in violence and the setting on fire of the Maradana police station, which led to a police shooting and five deaths. NU, whose lodgings were nearby, would have gazed on with amazement on the new phenomenon of working-class militancy.

This unprecedented agitation resulted in the formation of the Employers Federation (1929), leading to the first collective agreement with a labour union (1929) and the beginning of trade union legislation in Sri Lanka. During these years, NU was in government service and was therefore debarred from politics or trade-union activity. Thus, as he watched these events firsthand, even if he had any sympathies with the workers, he would have kept his views to himself.

NU’s Work Ethic

When NU started work as a clerical servant, he was determined to bring certain principles and practices into his work. No doubt the lessons on efficiency and excellence, which he had learned both in school and from his British bosses in the workplace, were crucial in his attitude to office routine. He was a conscientious worker, but more than that, he was anxious to formulate a system whereby the files he maintained would be kept orderly and comprehensive.

This characteristic of his to have everything in a tidy retrieval system was one that stood him in good stead in the furtherance of his career. It brought a certain discipline not only to the office, but also to his own work.

NU took pride in his work and did not want any superior officer to find fault with him, and did whatever was given to him with meticulous care. In fact, he often used to say that the guiding principle with regard to his work was that ‘he must do today what he could well do tomorrow.’ It was a principle that made him impatient with those who did not have his keen and cutting intelligence and his ability to remember things down to the last detail.

He never proffered excuses if he failed to do anything, and this again was a trait that affected his relationships with those who worked with him. NU worked hard and conscientiously, combining study with work. His great opportunity for social and financial advancement, however, came with his marriage in 1929.

(N.U. JAYAWARDENA The First Five Decades Chapter 5 can read online on https://island.lk/lure-of-govt-service/

(Excerpted from N.U. JAYAWARDENA The first five decades)
By Kumari Jayawardena and Jennifer Moragoda ✍️

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Features

Theocratic Iran facing unprecedented challenge

Published

19 hours ago

2026/01/15

Sahan Weerasooriya

Anti-government protests in Tehran (BBC)

The world is having the evidence of its eyes all over again that ‘economics drives politics’ and this time around the proof is coming from theocratic Iran. Iranians in their tens of thousands are on the country’s streets calling for a regime change right now but it is all too plain that the wellsprings of the unprecedented revolt against the state are economic in nature. It is widespread financial hardship and currency depreciation, for example, that triggered the uprising in the first place.

However, there is no denying that Iran’s current movement for drastic political change has within its fold multiple other forces, besides the economically affected, that are urging a comprehensive transformation as it were of the country’s political system to enable the equitable empowerment of the people. For example, the call has been gaining ground with increasing intensity over the weeks that the country’s number one theocratic ruler, President Ali Khamenei, steps down from power.

That is, the validity and continuation of theocratic rule is coming to be questioned unprecedentedly and with increasing audibility and boldness by the public. Besides, there is apparently fierce opposition to the concentration of political power at the pinnacle of the Iranian power structure.

Popular revolts have been breaking out every now and then of course in Iran over the years, but the current protest is remarkable for its social diversity and the numbers it has been attracting over the past few weeks. It could be described as a popular revolt in the genuine sense of the phrase. Not to be also forgotten is the number of casualties claimed by the unrest, which stands at some 2000.

Of considerable note is the fact that many Iranian youths have been killed in the revolt. It points to the fact that youth disaffection against the state has been on the rise as well and could be at boiling point. From the viewpoint of future democratic development in Iran, this trend needs to be seen as positive.

Politically-conscious youngsters prioritize self-expression among other fundamental human rights and stifling their channels of self-expression, for example, by shutting down Internet communication links, would be tantamount to suppressing youth aspirations with a heavy hand. It should come as no surprise that they are protesting strongly against the state as well.

Another notable phenomenon is the increasing disaffection among sections of Iran’s women. They too are on the streets in defiance of the authorities. A turning point in this regard was the death of Mahsa Amini in 2022, which apparently befell her all because she defied state orders to be dressed in the Hijab. On that occasion as well, the event brought protesters in considerable numbers onto the streets of Tehran and other cities.

Once again, from the viewpoint of democratic development the increasing participation of Iranian women in popular revolts should be considered thought-provoking. It points to a heightening political consciousness among Iranian women which may not be easy to suppress going forward. It could also mean that paternalism and its related practices and social forms may need to be re-assessed by the authorities.

It is entirely a matter for the Iranian people to address the above questions, the neglect of which could prove counter-productive for them, but it is all too clear that a relaxing of authoritarian control over the state and society would win favour among a considerable section of the populace.

However, it is far too early to conclude that Iran is at risk of imploding. This should be seen as quite a distance away in consideration of the fact that the Iranian government is continuing to possess its coercive power. Unless the country’s law enforcement authorities turn against the state as well this coercive capability will remain with Iran’s theocratic rulers and the latter will be in a position to quash popular revolts and continue in power. But the ruling authorities could not afford the luxury of presuming that all will be well at home, going into the future.

Meanwhile US President Donald Trump has assured the Iranian people of his assistance but it is not clear as to what form such support would take and when it would be delivered. The most important way in which the Trump administration could help the Iranian people is by helping in the process of empowering them equitably and this could be primarily achieved only by democratizing the Iranian state.

It is difficult to see the US doing this to even a minor measure under President Trump. This is because the latter’s principal preoccupation is to make the ‘US Great Once again’, and little else. To achieve the latter, the US will be doing battle with its international rivals to climb to the pinnacle of the international political system as the unchallengeable principal power in every conceivable respect.

That is, Realpolitik considerations would be the main ‘stuff and substance’ of US foreign policy with a corresponding downplaying of things that matter for a major democratic power, including the promotion of worldwide democratic development and the rendering of humanitarian assistance where it is most needed. The US’ increasing disengagement from UN development agencies alone proves the latter.

Given the above foreign policy proclivities it is highly unlikely that the Iranian people would be assisted in any substantive way by the Trump administration. On the other hand, the possibility of US military strikes on Iranian military targets in the days ahead cannot be ruled out.

The latter interventions would be seen as necessary by the US to keep the Middle Eastern military balance in favour of Israel. Consequently, any US-initiated peace moves in the real sense of the phrase in the Middle East would need to be ruled out in the foreseeable future. In other words, Middle East peace will remain elusive.

Interestingly, the leadership moves the Trump administration is hoping to make in Venezuela, post-Maduro, reflect glaringly on its foreign policy preoccupations. Apparently, Trump will be preferring to ‘work with’ Delcy Rodriguez, acting President of Venezuela, rather than Maria Corina Machado, the principal opponent of Nicolas Maduro, who helped sustain the opposition to Maduro in the lead-up to the latter’s ouster and clearly the democratic candidate for the position of Venezuelan President.

The latter development could be considered a downgrading of the democratic process and a virtual ‘slap in its face’. While the democratic rights of the Venezuelan people will go disregarded by the US, a comparative ‘strong woman’ will receive the Trump administration’s blessings. She will perhaps be groomed by Trump to protect the US’s security and economic interests in South America, while his administration side-steps the promotion of the democratic empowerment of Venezuelans.

Features

Silk City: A blueprint for municipal-led economic transformation in Sri Lanka

Published

19 hours ago

2026/01/15

Sahan Weerasooriya

Mayor Saman Samarakoon (L) / J.M.C. Jayasekera (R)

Maharagama today stands at a crossroads. With the emergence of new political leadership, growing public expectations, and the convergence of professional goodwill, the Maharagama Municipal Council (MMC) has been presented with a rare opportunity to redefine the city’s future. At the heart of this moment lies the Silk City (Seda Nagaraya) Initiative (SNI)—a bold yet pragmatic development blueprint designed to transform Maharagama into a modern, vibrant, and economically dynamic urban hub.

This is not merely another urban development proposal. Silk City is a strategic springboard—a comprehensive economic and cultural vision that seeks to reposition Maharagama as Sri Lanka’s foremost textile-driven commercial city, while enhancing livability, employment, and urban dignity for its residents. The Silk City concept represents more than a development plan: it is a comprehensive economic blueprint designed to redefine Maharagama as Sri Lanka’s foremost textile-driven commercial and cultural hub.

A Vision Rooted in Reality

What makes the Silk City Initiative stand apart is its grounding in economic realism. Carefully designed around the geographical, commercial, and social realities of Maharagama, the concept builds on the city’s long-established strengths—particularly its dominance as a textile and retail centre—while addressing modern urban challenges.

The timing could not be more critical. With Mayor Saman Samarakoon assuming leadership at a moment of heightened political goodwill and public anticipation, MMC is uniquely positioned to embark on a transformation of unprecedented scale. Leadership, legitimacy, and opportunity have aligned—a combination that cities rarely experience.

A Voluntary Gift of National Value

In an exceptional and commendable development, the Maharagama Municipal Council has received—entirely free of charge—a comprehensive development proposal titled “Silk City – Seda Nagaraya.” Authored by Deshamanya, Deshashkthi J. M. C. Jayasekera, a distinguished Chartered Accountant and Chairman of the JMC Management Institute, the proposal reflects meticulous research, professional depth, and long-term strategic thinking.

It must be added here that this silk city project has received the political blessings of the Parliamentarians who represented the Maharagama electorate. They are none other than Sunil Kumara Gamage, Minister of Sports and Youth Affairs, Sunil Watagala, Deputy Minister of Public Security and Devananda Suraweera, Member of Parliament.

The blueprint outlines ten integrated sectoral projects, including : A modern city vision, Tourism and cultural city development, Clean and green city initiatives, Religious and ethical city concepts, Garden city aesthetics, Public safety and beautification, Textile and creative industries as the economic core

Together, these elements form a five-year transformation agenda, capable of elevating Maharagama into a model municipal economy and a 24-hour urban hub within the Colombo Metropolitan Region

Why Maharagama, Why Now?

Maharagama’s transformation is not an abstract ambition—it is a logical evolution. Strategically located and commercially vibrant, the city already attracts thousands of shoppers daily. With structured investment, branding, and infrastructure support, Maharagama can evolve into a sleepless commercial destination, a cultural and tourism node, and a magnet for both local and international consumers.

Such a transformation aligns seamlessly with modern urban development models promoted by international development agencies—models that prioritise productivity, employment creation, poverty reduction, and improved quality of life.

Rationale for Transformation

Maharagama has long held a strategic advantage as one of Sri Lanka’s textile and retail centers. With proper planning and investment, this identity can be leveraged to convert the city into a branded urban destination, a sleepless commercial hub, a tourism and cultural attraction, and a vibrant economic engine within the Colombo Metropolitan Region. Such transformation is consistent with modern city development models promoted by international funding agencies that seek to raise local productivity, employment, quality of life, alleviation of urban poverty, attraction and retaining a huge customer base both local and international to the city)

Current Opportunity

The convergence of the following factors make this moment and climate especially critical. Among them the new political leadership with strong public support, availability of a professionally developed concept paper, growing public demand for modernisation, interest among public, private, business community and civil society leaders to contribute, possibility of leveraging traditional strengths (textile industry and commercial vibrancy are notable strengths.

The Silk City initiative therefore represents a timely and strategic window for Maharagama to secure national attention, donor interest and investor confidence.

A Window That Must Not Be Missed

Several factors make this moment decisive: Strong new political leadership with public mandate, Availability of a professionally developed concept, Rising citizen demand for modernization, Willingness of professionals, businesses, and civil society to contribute. The city’s established textile and commercial base

Taken together, these conditions create a strategic window to attract national attention, donor interest, and investor confidence.

But windows close.

Hard Truths: Challenges That Must Be Addressed

Ambition alone will not deliver transformation. The Silk City Initiative demands honest recognition of institutional constraints. MMC currently faces: Limited technical and project management capacity, rigid public-sector regulatory frameworks that slow procurement and partnerships, severe financial limitations, with internal revenues insufficient even for routine operations, the absence of a fully formalised, high-caliber Steering Committee.

Moreover, this is a mega urban project, requiring feasibility studies, impact assessments, bankable proposals, international partnerships, and sustained political and community backing.

A Strategic Roadmap for Leadership

For Mayor Saman Samarakoon, this represents a once-in-a-generation leadership moment. Key strategic actions are essential: 1.Immediate establishment of a credible Steering Committee, drawing expertise from government, private sector, academia, and civil society. 2. Creation of a dedicated Project Management Unit (PMU) with professional specialists. 3. Aggressive mobilisation of external funding, including central government support, international donors, bilateral partners, development banks, and corporate CSR initiatives. 4. Strategic political engagement to secure legitimacy and national backing. 5. Quick-win projects to build public confidence and momentum. 6. A structured communications strategy to brand and promote Silk City nationally and internationally. Firm positioning of textiles and creative industries as the heart of Maharagama’s economic identity

If successfully implemented, Silk City will not only redefine Maharagama’s future but also ensure that the names of those who led this transformation are etched permanently in the civic history of the city.

Voluntary Gift of National Value

Maharagama is intrinsically intertwined with the textile industry. Small scale and domestic textile industry play a pivotal role. Textile industry generates a couple of billion of rupees to the Maharagama City per annum. It is the one and only city that has a sleepless night and this textile hub provides ready-made garments to the entire country. Prices are comparatively cheaper. If this textile industry can be vertically and horizontally developed, a substantial income can be generated thus providing employment to vulnerable segments of employees who are mostly women. Paucity of textile technology and capital investment impede the growth of the industry. If Maharagama can collaborate with the Bombay of India textile industry, there would be an unbelievable transition. How Sri Lanka could pursue this goal. A blueprint for the development of the textile industry for the Maharagama City will be dealt with in a separate article due to time space.

It is achievable if the right structures, leadership commitments and partnerships are put in place without delay.

No municipal council in recent memory has been presented with such a pragmatic, forward-thinking and well-timed proposal. Likewise, few Mayors will ever be positioned as you are today — with the ability to initiate a transformation that will redefine the future of Maharagama for generations. It will not be a difficult task for Saman Samarakoon, Mayor of the MMC to accomplish the onerous tasks contained in the projects, with the acumen and experience he gained from his illustrious as a Commander of the SL Navy with the support of the councilors, Municipal staff and the members of the Parliamentarians and the committed team of the Silk-City Project.

Voluntary Gift of National Value

Maharagama is intrinsically intertwined with the textile industry. The textile industries play a pivotal role. This textile hub provides ready-made garments to the entire country. Prices are comparatively cheaper. If this textile industry can be vertically and horizontally developed, a substantial income can be generated thus providing employment to vulnerable segments of employees who are mostly women.

Paucity of textile technology and capital investment impede the growth of the industry. If Maharagama can collaborate with the Bombay of India textile industry, there would be an unbelievable transition. A blueprint for the development of the textile industry for the Maharagama City will be dealt with in a separate article.

J.A.A.S Ranasinghe
Productivity Specialist and Management Consultant
(The writer can becontacted via Email:rathula49@gmail.com)

Features

Reading our unfinished economic story through Bandula Gunawardena’s ‘IMF Prakeerna Visadum’

Published

19 hours ago

2026/01/15

Sahan Weerasooriya

Book Review

Why Sri Lanka’s Return to the IMF Demands Deeper Reflection

By mid-2022, the term “economic crisis” ceased to be an abstract concept for most Sri Lankans. It was no longer confined to academic papers, policy briefings, or statistical tables. Instead, it became a lived and deeply personal experience. Fuel queues stretched for kilometres under the burning sun. Cooking gas vanished from household shelves. Essential medicines became difficult—sometimes impossible—to find. Food prices rose relentlessly, pushing basic nutrition beyond the reach of many families, while real incomes steadily eroded.

What had long existed as graphs, ratios, and warning signals in economic reports suddenly entered daily life with unforgiving force. The crisis was no longer something discussed on television panels or debated in Parliament; it was something felt at the kitchen table, at the bus stop, and in hospital corridors.

Amid this social and economic turmoil came another announcement—less dramatic in appearance, but far more consequential in its implications. Sri Lanka would once again seek assistance from the International Monetary Fund (IMF).

The announcement immediately divided public opinion. For some, the IMF represented an unavoidable lifeline—a last resort to stabilise a collapsing economy. For others, it symbolised a loss of economic sovereignty and a painful surrender to external control. Emotions ran high. Debates became polarised. Public discourse quickly hardened into slogans, accusations, and ideological posturing.

Yet beneath the noise, anger, and fear lay a more fundamental question—one that demanded calm reflection rather than emotional reaction:

Why did Sri Lanka have to return to the IMF at all?

This question does not lend itself to simple or comforting answers. It cannot be explained by a single policy mistake, a single government, or a single external shock. Instead, it requires an honest examination of decades of economic decision-making, institutional weaknesses, policy inconsistency, and political avoidance. It requires looking beyond the immediate crisis and asking how Sri Lanka repeatedly reached a point where IMF assistance became the only viable option.

Few recent works attempt this difficult task as seriously and thoughtfully as Dr. Bandula Gunawardena’s IMF Prakeerna Visadum. Rather than offering slogans or seeking easy culprits, the book situates Sri Lanka’s IMF engagement within a broader historical and structural narrative. In doing so, it shifts the debate away from blame and toward understanding—a necessary first step if the country is to ensure that this crisis does not become yet another chapter in a familiar and painful cycle.

Returning to the IMF: Accident or Inevitability?

The central argument of IMF Prakeerna Visadum is at once simple and deeply unsettling. It challenges a comforting narrative that has gained popularity in times of crisis and replaces it with a far more demanding truth:

Sri Lanka’s economic crisis was not created by the IMF.
IMF intervention became inevitable because Sri Lanka avoided structural reform for far too long.

This framing fundamentally alters the terms of the national debate. It shifts attention away from external blame and towards internal responsibility. Instead of asking whether the IMF is good or bad, Dr. Gunawardena asks a more difficult and more important question: what kind of economy repeatedly drives itself to a point where IMF assistance becomes unavoidable?

The book refuses the two easy positions that dominate public discussion. It neither defends the IMF uncritically as a benevolent saviour nor demonises it as the architect of Sri Lanka’s suffering. Instead, IMF intervention is placed within a broader historical and structural context—one shaped primarily by domestic policy choices, institutional weaknesses, and political avoidance.

Public discourse often portrays IMF programmes as the starting point of economic hardship. Dr. Gunawardena corrects this misconception by restoring the correct chronology—an essential step for any honest assessment of the crisis.

The IMF did not arrive at the beginning of Sri Lanka’s collapse.

It arrived after the collapse had already begun.

By the time negotiations commenced, Sri Lanka had exhausted its foreign exchange reserves, lost access to international capital markets, officially defaulted on its external debt, and entered a phase of runaway inflation and acute shortages.

Fuel queues, shortages of essential medicines, and scarcities of basic food items were not the product of IMF conditionality. They were the direct outcome of prolonged foreign-exchange depletion combined with years of policy mismanagement. Import restrictions were imposed not because the IMF demanded them, but because the country simply could not pay its bills.

From this perspective, the IMF programme did not introduce austerity into a functioning economy. It formalised an adjustment that had already become unavoidable. The economy was already contracting, consumption was already constrained, and living standards were already falling. The IMF framework sought to impose order, sequencing, and credibility on a collapse that was already under way.

Seen through this lens, the return to the IMF was not a freely chosen policy option, but the end result of years of postponed decisions and missed opportunities.

A Long IMF Relationship, Short National Memory

Sri Lanka’s engagement with the IMF is neither new nor exceptional. For decades, governments of all political persuasions have turned to the Fund whenever balance-of-payments pressures became acute. Each engagement was presented as a temporary rescue—an extraordinary response to an unusual storm.

Yet, as Dr. Gunawardena meticulously documents, the storms were not unusual. What was striking was not the frequency of crises, but the remarkable consistency of their underlying causes.

Fiscal indiscipline persisted even during periods of growth. Government revenue remained structurally weak. Public debt expanded rapidly, often financing recurrent expenditure rather than productive investment. Meanwhile, the external sector failed to generate sufficient foreign exchange to sustain a consumption-led growth model.

IMF programmes brought temporary stability. Inflation eased. Reserves stabilised. Growth resumed. But once external pressure diminished, reform momentum faded. Political priorities shifted. Structural weaknesses quietly re-emerged.

This recurring pattern—crisis, adjustment, partial compliance, and relapse—became a defining feature of Sri Lanka’s economic management. The most recent crisis differed only in scale. This time, there was no room left to postpone adjustment.

Fiscal Fragility: The Core of the Crisis

A central focus of IMF Prakeerna Visadum is Sri Lanka’s chronically weak fiscal structure. Despite relatively strong social indicators and a capable administrative state, government revenue as a share of GDP remained exceptionally low.

Frequent tax changes, politically motivated exemptions, and weak enforcement steadily eroded the tax base. Instead of building a stable revenue system, governments relied increasingly on borrowing—both domestic and external.

Much of this borrowing financed subsidies, transfers, and public sector wages rather than productivity-enhancing investment. Over time, debt servicing crowded out development spending, shrinking fiscal space.

Fiscal reform failed not because it was technically impossible, Dr. Gunawardena argues, but because it was politically inconvenient. The costs were immediate and visible; the benefits long-term and diffuse. The eventual debt default was therefore not a surprise, but a delayed consequence.

The External Sector Trap

Sri Lanka’s narrow export base—apparel, tea, tourism, and remittances—generated foreign exchange but masked deeper weaknesses. Export diversification stagnated. Industrial upgrading lagged. Integration into global value chains remained limited.

Meanwhile, import-intensive consumption expanded. When external shocks arrived—global crises, pandemics, commodity price spikes—the economy had little resilience.

Exchange-rate flexibility alone cannot generate exports. Trade liberalisation without an industrial strategy redistributes pain rather than creates growth.

Monetary Policy and the Cost of Lost Credibility

Prolonged monetary accommodation, often driven by political pressure, fuelled inflation, depleted reserves, and eroded confidence. Once credibility was lost, restoring it required painful adjustment.

Macroeconomic credibility, Dr. Gunawardena reminds us, is a national asset. Once squandered, it is extraordinarily expensive to rebuild.

IMF Conditionality: Stabilisation Without Development?

IMF programmes stabilise economies, but they do not automatically deliver inclusive growth. In Sri Lanka, adjustment raised living costs and reduced real incomes. Social safety nets expanded, but gaps persisted.

This raises a critical question: can stabilisation succeed politically if it fails socially?

Political Economy: The Missing Middle

Reforms collided repeatedly with electoral incentives and patronage networks. IMF programmes exposed contradictions but could not resolve them. Without domestic ownership, reform risks becoming compliance rather than transformation.

Beyond Blame: A Diagnostic Moment

The book’s greatest strength lies in its refusal to engage in blame politics. IMF intervention is treated as a diagnostic signal, not a cause—a warning light illuminating unresolved structural failures.

The real challenge is not exiting an IMF programme, but exiting the cycle that makes IMF programmes inevitable.

A Strong Public Appeal: Why This Book Must Be Read

This is not an anti-IMF book.
It is not a pro-IMF book.
It is a pro-Sri Lanka book.

Published by Sarasaviya Publishers, IMF Prakeerna Visadum equips readers not with anger, but with clarity—offering history, evidence, and honest reflection when the country needs them most.

Conclusion: Will We Learn This Time?

The IMF can stabilise an economy.
It cannot build institutions.
It cannot create competitiveness.
It cannot deliver inclusive development.

Those responsibilities remain domestic.

The question before Sri Lanka is simple but profound:
Will we repeat the cycle, or finally learn the lesson?

The answer does not lie in Washington.
It lies with us.

By Professor Ranjith Bandara
Emeritus Professor, University of Colombo