Features
Education and healthcare in crisis:
Why IMF is not the solution
By Ramya Kumar
The rally of July 9th and the events that followed are symbolic of the radical changes in governance demanded by the people of this country. We want to be informed and consulted, an end to the abuse of power, fair distribution of the country’s resources and a democratic and inclusive society. The ruling elite, for whom the current system works, are not invested in the seismic shifts that are needed to make this happen. Puzzlingly, in this moment of crisis, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) is being presented as the solution to the country’s woes. This article reflects on what the IMF’s interventions could mean for social welfare, in particular, free education and health in Sri Lanka.
IMF and its agenda
The IMF and the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development (now World Bank) were created in 1944 at a meeting in Bretton Woods, New Hampshire, USA. The IMF was tasked with managing the post-Second World War international monetary system, including balance of payment problems, while the World Bank was mandated to support development projects as part of post-war reconstruction efforts. Called the Bretton Woods institutions, the IMF and World Bank shifted their attention from Europe and East Asia to the “Third World” in the 1950s in the context of Cold War tensions and the perceived threat of communism.
At the behest of the United States and its allies, the IMF’s agenda has been to bolster global capitalism by propagating neoliberal ideology and expanding markets to renew the profitability of capital. The long economic downturn that began in the 1970s, the 1973 oil shocks and ensuing debt crisis saw the IMF and World Bank negotiate structural adjustment loans for indebted governments, imposing various conditionalities, including: trade liberalization, financial deregulation, privatization, and slashed welfare budgets. This recipe did not fix third world economies but intensified balance of payment problems, forcing governments to borrow more, including eventually from volatile capital markets, necessitating more IMF agreements and similar stabilization packages, resulting in more cuts to public spending. The ensuing reforms weakened universal welfare systems across the world, including in Sri Lanka, and also entrenched the dependent relationship between indebted countries and the West.
Universal welfare anathema
The Bretton Woods institutions have consistently intervened to dismantle universal welfare programmes in line with neoliberal ideology; the IMF pressures governments to adopt free market policies and cut public expenditures, creating the conditions for the World Bank to step in to push for public sector reforms involving varying degrees of privatization. The latter is justified based on a distorted interpretation of equity that goes something like this: universal programmes are inequitable because the rich benefit more from them; the rich should pay for (private) services to cross-subsidize the poor; universal welfare programmes should be replaced by targeted welfare schemes; the latter should preferably take the form of “demand-side financing” schemes (i.e. those that channel funds through service-users as opposed service-providers), such as vouchers or conditional cash transfers.
Vouchers for healthcare services, conditional cash transfers for education and other forms of demand-side financing usually do not discriminate between public and private service provision, enabling the private sector to be involved in service delivery. Also, governments (and their high-paid consultants) usually fail to develop effective mechanisms to identify households in need, resulting in piecemeal coverage and issues of access for the poor. In the health sector, insurance schemes have served to separate purchasing and provision, enabling governments to cover (limited) service packages for the poor involving various “cost-sharing” arrangements, and also engage the private sector in health service delivery. In higher education, student loans have supported the expansion of (private) education.
All this requires considerable investment on the part of governments. The UN, World Health Organization, and of course the World Bank, advocate for raising public financing for education and health. While in theory this may look like increasing government support for public education and healthcare, such funds may be channelled to the private sector through “public-private partnerships” (PPP), channeling scarce resources away from universal programmes.
Welfare state and its demise
Sri Lanka has a long history of welfare provisioning. Universal food subsidies came into effect in the early 1940s in the context of food scarcity during the Second World War. Free education became government policy in 1945 when universal primary and secondary education became a citizen right. And the free health policy (1951) eliminated user charges from previously fee-levying units at public hospitals, ensuring access to non-fee levying public healthcare for decades on.
The first World Bank mission to Ceylon took place in 1951 on the invitation of the government during the economic boom associated with the Korean War. Broadly speaking, the World Bank recommended policies that encouraged private capital investment and also proposed a gradual removal of the rice subsidy. The then UNP government adopted the World Bank’s development programme and, in 1953, removed the rice subsidy, for which it paid dearly. The labour movement organized the Great Hartal of 1953 to restore the rice subsidy, leading to events that would end in regime change in 1956.
The first IMF agreement came in 1965 in the face of economic crisis. The stabilization package included more cuts to subsidies, policies to encourage private investment, currency devaluation and trade liberalization. IMF prescriptions did not encourage investment in agriculture and production for local consumption, leaving the country relying on imports for essential items, including food—decisions that we are paying for today. The IMF’s forays mostly took place under UNP regimes, most strikingly its influence on the country adopting an “open economy” after the UNP’s landslide victory in 1977.
Perhaps owing to Sri Lanka’s exemplary status in human development, attributed internationally to its welfare system, and also the political ramifications of dismantling free education and health, successive governments maintained the free education and health policies, with minimal capital investment on infrastructure and facilities. As per the IMF-World Bank recipe, education and healthcare were opened to the market, with various fiscal incentives for private sector expansion. Today, private educational institutions and hospitals are under the Board of Investment, receiving tax concessions, including on imports, lease terms on state lands, in effect, public subsidization of the private sector.
This trajectory of development manifests in government policy. For instance, in 2021, state universities had to increase their intake by 30% with minimal additional investment, while private higher education institutions received huge allocations, including loans for students to access private degree programmes. Not surprisingly, we are left with weakened public education and healthcare systems, along with disgruntled students and workers, and ever-expanding private education and healthcare sectors.
What is at stake
Two years post-pandemic, the education and health sectors are in shambles. Schools are closed and universities are unable to function. Hospitals are struggling to provide services with widespread shortages of medicines and medical supplies, and a rapid exodus of healthcare workers. Some welfare programmes have already come to a standstill, including the Thriposha and school mid-day meal programmes—even when child malnutrition is widespread. Many such programmes may be terminated in the name of economic crisis.
Negotiations are underway with creditors for a debt restructuring programme and an IMF agreement that will come with conditionalities, including austerity. What is to be expected? On July 13, 2022, the IMF Chief blogged a series of fairly typical measures to address the “darkening economic outlook” in the post-pandemic era, including tightening monetary and fiscal policy, targeted measures to support vulnerable households (cash transfers), and reversing restrictions on food imports—more of the same. Earlier this year, analysts in Sri Lanka were pleased with the IMF’s proposals, with some claiming that its recommendation to increase public financing for education and health signaled a shift in the IMF’s approach. As discussed earlier, these funds will likely not be allocated to strengthen universal education or health, but rather to private education institutions, student loans, or health insurance schemes.
Economic crises are times of social upheaval, heralding radical and long-lasting change. Although an IMF agreement may bring short-term respite financed through more loans (and more indebtedness), pro-business policy prescriptions will intensify inequality in the country. The system that the IMF and our ruling elite sustain relies on countries like ours remaining dependent, for consumption by the West, whether tourism, tea, or as a source of workers, sending remittances. The IMF’s austerity measures will further weaken free public education and healthcare. Is this our vision for change? Sri Lanka has said no to dismantling welfare systems before this. There are other avenues to raise funds particularly by redistributing wealth, whether for food assistance in the immediate term or to sustain a universal education and health programme in the medium- and long-term, even within or precisely because of the crisis.
(The author is attached to the Department of Community and Family Medicine, University of Jaffna)
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
Features
Eastern University and the making of a culture of peace
by Jehan Perera
There is an important change in the way peace is being understood in Sri Lanka. The notion that peacebuilding is not simply the responsibility of governments, politicians and peace organisations, but is also a responsibility of educational institutions, appears to be permeating the consciousness of at least a section of the academic community. This was visible on International Peace Day at an event held at Eastern University by the Faculty of Health-Care Sciences. The event was unusual not least because the medical and nursing faculty of the university had decided that peacebuilding was relevant to its academic and professional responsibilities.
Peacebuilding has too often been treated as something undertaken after conflict, when the fighting has stopped and the immediate task is to rebuild relationships between communities. But peace cannot be sustained by governments and peace organisations alone. If it is to become long lasting, the values and practices of peace have to become part of the institutions through which a society educates its younger generations. Universities and other educational institutions are therefore important to peacebuilding. They are among the places where the foundations of a culture of peace can either be built or neglected.
The experience of the Faculty of Health-Care Sciences at Eastern University provides a practical example of what this can mean. Led by its Dean, Prof Thillainathan Sathaananthan, the faculty organised an event which went beyond the ordinary academic scope of a medical faculty. University academics are experts in writing project proposals and applying for research grants. On this occasion, the members of the Faculty of Health-Care Sciences used those skills to apply for a UNESCO grant that they won to conduct an International Peace Day event. The significance lies less in the Rs 200,000 grant than in the decision to use the university’s institutional capacity and resources to invest in peacebuilding. The event at Eastern University needs to be understood as more than a successful university programme. It represents a possible paradigm shift in peace thinking.
Institutional Commitment
The Peace Day event obtained the support of the university administration, including Vice Chancellor Prof P Peratheepan, and reached out to secondary schools in the vicinity to mobilise their attendance. The event itself was meticulously organised. There were cultural items including traditional and modern dance and song in the three languages, performed by combinations of solo, duet and multiple singers, dancers and actors drawn in part from nearby secondary schools. There was a panel discussion by senior academics on the general theme of peacebuilding and how to prepare for it. A discussion among the students followed, where each student spoke on behalf of a religion that was not theirs. This is significant because peacebuilding cannot remain an idea discussed by specialists at conferences. It has to become part of the way institutions educate and prepare people for life in a plural society.
The Faculty of Health-Care Sciences at Eastern University has provided a model through its Peace Medicine course modules that were introduced to the curricular as a compulsory core course over 10 years ago. Two senior academics, Dr Kuveriel Eliyas Karunakaran and Dr Thillainathan Sathaananthan, have written a book on “Peace Medicine- A Health Care Concern” that was published five years ago. Its Peace Medicine Module integrates principles of medical ethics, compassion, equity, social justice and community engagement into health education and practice. In his introduction, former Vice Chancellor of Eastern University, Prof T Jayasingam noted “This book is an introduction to a theme which had already been operating in the Faculty of Health Care Sciences as a course.”
Doctors, nurses and health workers know better than anyone the harm that war and violence does. They are the people who treat the wounds and trauma that violence leaves behind. In a hospital, a patient is not asked what their religion or ethnicity is before they are treated. Health care is one of the places where peace is practised every day. The Faculty has therefore found a way of connecting its professional responsibilities with the wider social responsibility of peacebuilding. The question is whether this experience can be replicated throughout the country, at universities and at other educational institutions, so that peacebuilding becomes part of the consciousness of education itself. If that happens on a sufficient scale, it can begin to generate a culture of peace that becomes increasingly difficult to reverse.
Local Action
The Eastern University event corresponded closely to the United Nations theme for this year’s International Day of Peace, “Invest in Peace – For Everyone, Everywhere, Every Day”, which honours the “everyday architects of peace”, people driving local action, laying the groundwork for stability and building lasting peace from the ground up. The emphasis on investment is important. An investment means that something is put in: time, courage and resources. There is no more violent conflict in Sri Lanka today. But the absence of war does not automatically produce a culture of peace. The factors that fed the country’s conflict have not disappeared from the world. Racism, corruption and the violation of laws and human rights are the raw materials of conflict. So too are unresolved grievances, discrimination and the failure to recognise the suffering of others.
A country that does not deal with its past does not escape it. The past can return in the next generation. This is why the experience of Eastern University needs to be replicated countrywide, both at universities and at other educational institutions. The objective should not be to turn every academic discipline into peace studies. Rather, peacebuilding needs to become part of the consciousness of education itself. Eastern University shows that a medical faculty can develop Peace Medicine. A law faculty can examine the relationship between justice, rights and peace. Faculties of education can prepare teachers to work in diverse communities, while the humanities and social sciences can examine the different narratives through which communities understand their histories. Every institution can find its own way of making peacebuilding relevant to what it teaches.
Sri Lanka has had many declarations, pledges and programmes in the past. What matters is whether these produce changes in behaviour and institutional practice. Peacebuilding requires confronting difficult issues rather than avoiding them. It requires respect for different identities, but also engagement across those identities. It requires dealing with grievances in the present while also addressing unresolved issues from the past. It requires truth, accountability, reparations and guarantees of non-recurrence. It requires people to learn that the rights of another community do not diminish their own rights. The International Peace Day event at Eastern University was evidence of a change in the way at least some academics in a part of the country deeply affected by war are thinking about their responsibilities. Peace needs to be invested in and the most important investment will be in the minds of those who will inherit the future.
Features
Quality assured education commodities
by Ahilan Kadirgamar
I have always noticed the little paper tags that are inside the packaging of some products that say quality assured or quality control. I often wonder who might have checked the product and stamped that tag, but I also forget the tag soon enough. Decades later, when I entered academia, I was taken aback by the emphasis placed on quality assurance in our universities. It is not something that could be forgotten and done away with; the entire university system is obsessed with quality assurance.
Beginning with the staff induction programme, quality assurance is drilled into the newly recruited lecturers. It is the norm, not seen as doing any harm and only trying to improve quality. It is accepted as given, and not questioned. Quality Assurance Cells and Committees are omnipresent and hover above the Departments and, at times, even the Faculty Boards. Quality Assurance reviews are feared by the Deans and Vice Chancellors. University life itself seems secondary to the rule of quality assurance. What do we make of this system of quality assurance and what are its implications for our university system?
Corporate speak
Universities globally have been going through major changes with neoliberal education policies. In many countries, universities increasingly became corporatised to be run like businesses in the 1980s. As state support for universities declined, cost cutting became the norm. They started hiring adjunct or part-time staff. Many public non-fee levying universities around the world began to charge fees. Decade by decade, tuition fees became more and more exorbitant, forcing students to take student loans. The total student debt in the United States now stands at close to US$ 2 trillion; which is about 20 times the GDP of Sri Lanka. As the higher education landscape transformed in the West, university administrations began to recruit Presidents, Vice Chancellors and administrative officials with corporate backgrounds and experience.
Such corporatisation of universities in the West has since been imported into countries like Sri Lanka, introducing a new corporate vocabulary, including quality assurance, graduate competencies, programme outcomes, intended learning outcomes, etc. University teaching has become secondary to documenting so-called outcomes. The teacher-student relationship, the environment of the lecture hall and even administering the university have been over-determined by the processes of ensuring quality. How did such major changes come about in such a short time? Indeed, academics of just two generation ago, would never have heard of these terms and processes in the Sri Lankan university system.
World Bank Trojan horse
Since the early 2000s there have been a number of World Bank projects that have drastically changed the character of Sri Lankan universities. Quality assurance as a central agenda within universities, and many other changes to the working of our universities, came through these World Bank initiatives. The Improving Relevance and Quality of Undergraduate Education (IRQUE) project and Higher Education for the 21st Century (HETC) project were two such earlier projects that set up the Quality Assurance and Accreditation Unit (QAAU) under the University Grants Commission (UGC) and established systematic quality assurance reviews for state universities. The public often thinks these are grants from the World Bank to modernise our universities. However, they are not grants but loans.
The most recent such project, Accelerating Higher Education Expansion and Development (AHEAD) is a US$ 100 million loan from the World Bank implemented from 2018 to 2023, which consolidated the quality assurance structures from the earlier projects. Furthermore, these projects are implemented with tremendous arrogance, prioritising their implementation over all other concerns in the universities, when the project over six years for example accounts for just one fourth of our budget allocation for universities this year.
The AHEAD project drastically changed course curricula, sought to increase student enrolment in science, technology, engineering, mathematics (STEM) disciplines, commercialise the university research agenda and create university-business linkages. All of this was pushed to supposedly help us face development challenges. We have heard the ideological attack on our universities and even students claiming they are “unemployable graduates”. These changes to our higher education system were supposedly going to create jobs and increase employment.
The irony of the AHEAD project is that just as it was ending in 2023, apparently after having reached its targets, the Sri Lankan economy was collapsing. The World Bank often gets the direction of causality wrong. It is the economy that creates jobs for graduates, and not the training or kind of graduates that create jobs. It is decades of World Bank policies, and those of its ideological twin the IMF, that have led to such high youth unemployment, not only in Sri Lanka but also in many other countries in the global South.
Sri Lanka entered an IMF agreement in March 2023 and started a new Country Partnership Framework with the World Bank in June 2023. These programmes have little to say about, and actively discourage, government initiatives that aim to create an industrial policy or an employment creation policy. Instead, they push for austerity measures, which not only restrict the allocation for education among other sectors, but also end up contracting the economy to the detriment of increasing employment. Their goal is the commercialisation of higher education, to make universities into businesses and run them like factories.
In this context, the ideology of quality assurance is powerful. The International Organisation for Standardisation (ISO), whose different standards are necessary for marketing, is the institution that came up with the concept of “quality assurance”. It promoted quality assurance as a process of identifying defected products. Therefore, when the World Bank promotes this conceptual framing, our students are, in fact, seen as products on the assembly line, with quality assurance processes aiming to prevent the release of defected products from the university system. For the US$ 100 million we borrowed for the AHEAD project and the many more million dollars in similar World Bank projects, there is no evidence of increased employment of graduates.
Commodity fetishism
Over a century and a half ago, Karl Marx critiqued the economic analysis prevalent at that time that associated some inherent or monetary value for commodities without considering the social relations that underlie the production of those commodities. Marx called this commodity fetishism. Furthermore, he theorised that such commodity fetishism was also a reason for the alienation of human beings from the world. If our labour and what we produce is seen devoid of the social relations that underlie them, we lose our connection with the people and the world. In this process we become alienated from what we produce and the world.
We are now in a world where our students themselves are fetishised as commodities for the market. Universities are no longer communities concerned about knowledge and human growth, but mere factories producing commodities, which have to be produced without defects to be marketed. In this way, quality assurance has become the cause for the alienation of students, academics and our universities themselves, from the larger relationship with our economy and society.
Our university system does need reform. It is grossly underfunded and not providing the financial support and facilities for our students. Universities have become hierarchical spaces without the academic freedom and democratic ethos necessary for producing knowledge. Academics and students need to engage more with their communities to make their learning and research meaningful, not to mention their contribution to and integration with society. However, when it comes to even questions of governance and regulation of the universities, such concerns are merely reduced to improving quality. In our contemporary times, this singular focus on quality assurance, as opposed to addressing the larger structural issues, is crippling our universities. There may be no way out, but to put back quality assurance where it started, those little tags on goods, to perhaps be noticed but quickly forgotten.
Ahilan Kadirgamar is a political economist and Senior Lecturer, University of Jaffna.
(Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies)
Features
Thailand’s biggest new global star …
The entertainment scene, globally, is agog with excitement, and, why not!
Yes, a new global star has emerged … from Thailand, and she hit the headlines by winning America’s Got Talent.
Rattikarn Amloy, known to millions by her stage name Nene Royal, was crowned the winner of America’s Got Talent (AGT) Season 21 at the live finale at Pasadena Civic Auditorium, California, taking home the USD 1 million grand prize.
The 16-year-old rocker, from the holiday island of Phuket (I’ve been to Phuket, courtesy Tourism Authority of Thailand), has struck a power chord around the world, and is the first Thai national ever to win the hit NBC show.
She beat nine other finalists, including runner-up magician Geno Ploeger, after a blistering final performance.
Nene’s story is pure rock and roll fairy-tale. She says she picked up a guitar at age seven, fell in love at the first chord, and taught herself mostly by watching videos online. That dedication earned her a music scholarship to Kajonkiet International School Phuket.
Her audition at America’s Got Talent — a swaggering, shredding rendition of The Cranberries’ classic ‘Zombie’ — exploded online, amassing over 200 million views across AGT’s platforms, more than any act this season.
She kept wowing: ‘Hysteria’ by Muse, then ‘Black Hole Sun’ by Soundgarden which earned her Spice Girl Mel B’s Golden Buzzer, sending her straight to the live shows.
For the final, she unleashed ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes. Judge Howie Mandel shouted: “You should win. Give her the million, America.” Mel B praised her “mysterious, mystical stage presence”.
And for the grand finale, she lived every teen rocker’s dream — performing on stage, alongside US rock giants Linkin Park.
When host Terry Crews announced her as winner, the teenager collapsed to the stage floor in tears. “I’m very happy and you know I’m emotional right now,” she said.
And Thailand erupted. Her school held watch parties, posting: “You did it, congratulations, champion. We are so proud of you.”
Even Prime Minister Anutin Charnvirakul sent a personal congratulation. He had earlier hosted Nene at Government House in July, where she played guitar while he sang a Thai rock song. His office said her talent “brought pride to Thai people.”
Corporate Thailand also rallied behind her — Charoen Pokphand Foods, owned by billionaire Dhanin Chearavanont, even rented a giant billboard in Times Square, New York, to cheer her on.
With her blistering guitar solos, rock-ballad shrieks and fearless spirit, little Nene Royal has just become Thailand’s biggest new global star.
What’s more, this amazing teenager will be bringing her powerful vocals, guitar skills and signature rock-metal style to the stage, as opening act, before one of the world’s biggest rock bands, America’s Avenged Sevenfold, in Singapore, on 13 October.
Unfortunately, we are still to see a local artiste, grab the spotlight, on a global scale … like Thailand’s Nene.
Yes, they do shine, but mostly on social media, and that, too, with the aid of AI (Artificial Intellegence).
-
News6 days agoMastermind Naufer Moulavi among 15 found guilty
-
Midweek Review6 days agoThileepan’s fast unto death: An authentic narrative that many missed
-
Latest News5 days agoShowers above 100 mm are likely at some places in the Western, Sabaragamuwa, Central and North-western provinces and in Galle and Matara Districts
-
Editorial6 days agoBig Bad Bills
-
Editorial5 days agoCrimes punished and unpunished
-
Features4 days agoBeyond traditional jobs: Why Sri Lanka needs to facilitate the gig economy
-
News6 days agoNo referendum needed for passage of 22 A: SC
-
Latest News6 days agoMs. P. M. Jayadeera (Engineer) appointed Director General of Irrigation
