Features
Fine sportsman, great debater, big appetite but weak stomach
Dudley Senanayake in the short Parliament of March to July 1960
(Excerpted from Rendering Unto Caesar by Bradman Weerakoon)
Family and background had been central in Dudley Senanayake’s case too. Greatness had literally been thrust on him when he had been appointed prime minister on the death of his father D S, in 1952. That had been a time of intrigue and maneuvering which had soured the relations between Sir John, his close relative and him.
Sir John had struck back with the Premier Stakes which he later denied having any connection with. So Dudley had been anxious to win his spurs for himself through the hustings as early as possible. And he had proved his legitimacy by winning the 1952 elections handsomely, helped by the sympathy vote created by the death of his father. But his first stint as prime minister did not last long. Plagued by illness, chronic gastritis and the hartal of August 1953 which resulted in police firing and some civilian deaths, Dudley resigned.
But there was always a fighting streak in him, which his generally soft demeanour, attractive smile and loud guffaw obscured. He was destined to return.
The Senanayake’s had from the second decade of the 20th century become political figures through the espousal of the temperance movement aimed against the colonial policy of liberalizing the consumption of liquor through the rentier system. Don Spater Senanayake, Dudley’s grandfather had been a leading renter at the turn of the century and formed part of a cartel known as the Colombo Arrack Farm Syndicate.
But Don Spater’s three sons, Don Charles, F R and Don Stephen (D S) – Dudley’s father – were among the young leaders of the temperance movement. The jailing of the three brothers along with other leaders of the movement in 1915 for 46 days for their alleged involvement in the anti-Muslim riots of that year gave them a national political prominence as patriots and leaders of the Sinhalese.
The active part being played in politics by the Senanayake brothers of Botale – Don Charles, F R and D S – in the temperance movement, whose roots were essentially political and anti-colonial, and their rise to prominence did not however go unchallenged. Other sections of the low-country colonial bourgeoisie, notably the influential Bandaranaike/Obeyesekera clan, whose power derived from official positions close to the governor, hit back with the cutting observation that here was an example of ‘Nobodies trying to be Somebodies.’
Strategic alliances through the marriages of the sons of leading low-country families with the daughters of high-status ‘feudal’ Kandyan families was not uncommon in this period. For example D. S. Senanayake married Molly Dunuwille daughter of R R Dunuwille who hailed from a famous Kandyan family.
D R Wijewardene the cousin of J R (and grandfather of Ranil Wickremesinghe) married Ruby Meedeniya the daughter of J H Meedeniya, Adigar of Kandy. Describing this phenomenon of newly-acquired wealth acquiring status through strategic marriages, Kumari Jayawardena .suggests that “the Nobodies finessed the Somebodies by marrying into high-status feudal families”.
Dudley’s first go at the top job was not a success. The occasion arose with the death of D S in 1952 of a stroke while riding on Galle Face Green. Dudley was barely 40 and not ready for the rough and tumble of realpolitik. He had reluctantly and with much hesitation – since he was not an ambitious man – allowed himself to be drafted for the succession with some sprightly footwork by Lord Soulbury who convinced the UNP that D S had wanted his son to succeed him in preference to other contenders, notably Sir John.
He needed to prove his legitimacy and the electoral success of the 1952 general elections, in which he won convincingly, restored his confidence in himself but the peptic ulcer which was to become a cause celebre in the future as well, led to his resigning from the position a few months later. All this history was before I entered the prime minister’s office and the only time I had seen him in person was on the cricket field at STC Mt Lavinia in 1949.
At the Old Boys’ day in the traditional half-day one innings match (not even 50 overs) when the Old Boys took on the First Eleven. I remember him bowling some very lofted leg-breaks, which if you used your feet too, could be taken on the full and driven to the boundary past the mostly ageing and sometimes, inebriated fieldsmen.
Dudley had a passion for cricket and his life in politics too reflected the manner in which he had absorbed its abiding characteristics. He had played it well at school, at St Thomas’ College and was in the First Eleven taking part in the famous Royal-Thomian match over four years in the late twenties. He had evidently savored its many moments of joy and its despairs and would relish in stories of his pleasure at a sweetly-timed cover drive or his bitter chagrin with a dropped catch.
His younger brother Robert with whom he had a continuing close friendship – the two houses were connected and Dudley would often in the day slip across in his sarong, to chat with his nephews, Devinda and Rukman and niece Ranjani – went on to play for Ceylon and was perhaps the better batsman. The records’ show that he and Robert had long and productive partnerships at the crease for St Thomas’ College.
He was regarded in school as the best all-round student of his time and was awarded the Victoria Gold Medal. He was Head Prefect, had a good scholastic record and had won his college colours in five sports – cricket, football, hockey, boxing and athletics.
As was usual for the leading political families of the time, Dudley went abroad for higher studies to Cambridge where he read for the Natural Science Tripos. Although he did not play in the Oxford- Cambridge match during his years there he joined the Crusaders Club which was made up of some of the better cricketers who had not made it to the first team. He continued his love for the game after coming down to London where he attended the Inns of Court, and played for the Indian Gymkhana Club.
He liked to relate this story of his first game at Lords for the Indian Gymkhana Club. Like many of his stories the joke was always on him.
Dudley who went in first for the match against the MCC was having a good morning and was particularly severe against a medium-fast leg-break bowler whom he found comfortable. By lunch break he had got to 45 and looked well set for a big score. At lunch he inquired from his neighbour as to why the famous All England bowler, Ian Peebles, who he knew was in the team opposing them, had not been brought on to bowl as yet. The neighbour remarked that he had indeed bowled throughout the morning and that it was Peebles in fact, who Dudley had been hitting all over the ground. The reputation that Peebles had acquired in the press was formidable. Dudley was quite unnerved at the news. Facing the first ball from Peebles after lunch, Dudley offered no shot and was clean bowled.
Dudley’s love for sports extended to all ball games. Late in life he turned to golf and was so keen on excelling that he even had a putter and golf ball in his study upstairs at Woodlands where he practised putting on the carpet. When he found that I did not play golf, and was not getting enough exercise he offered to teach me. He invited me down to the Royal Colombo Golf Club, where he had membership to show me the ropes.
The first hole is a par four with a water hazard to boot. On my approaching the water, after a series of hockey-like attempts at pushing the ball along, Dudley came up to me to advise on how one should negotiate water. “Just forget about the water,” he said, “keep your head down and swing right through. You’ll be amazed how the ball sails over the water.” I tried to remember all his precise instructions, gave a mighty heave and had the ball plop into the water a few yards ahead.
Dudley shrugged his shoulders, addressed his ball with great deliberation And did exactly the opposite of what he had told me. His head went up, a large sod of turf flew into the air and his ball fell in the water a few feet further on than mine. I felt very sad and discomfited. But Dudley was too good a sportsman to worry over trifles. “It’s easier to say than do,” was all said as we continued on to the second, walking past the waterhole.
For all his relaxed and carefree lifestyle that his bachelorhood had given him Dudley had a streak of obstinacy and rebellion which, literally once in a blue moon, emerged. It was mostly, being the great sport that he was, when he felt cheated or shortchanged. His friends spoke of the time he had gone as prime minister for the Coronation of the Queen in London in 1953. The Palace officials were arranging the Royal procession in which the prime ministers of the Commonwealth were also to be accommodated.
Each prime minister was to have a horse-drawn carriage. When it came to Ceylon’s turn, as the carriages were getting scarce, Dudley was approached by Palace protocol officer with the request that he share his carriage with Roy Welensky, the prime minister of Rhodesia. Dudley protested that Rhodesia, although a member of the Commonwealth, had still not been given its independence and it would not be proper for Ceylon, which was independent, to be downgraded in this manner.
The protocol officer then offered to let Dudley ride in the carriage of the Queen of Tonga who, by virtue of her royal origin had been provided with a larger carriage. This was to Dudley like falling from the frying pan into the fire. The Queen was an enormously endowed Polynesian woman and Dudley for all his size would have been dwarfed by her and not seen by the crowd. Dudley decided to put his foot down and announced that if the Palace could not find him a carriage of his own he would have no alternative but to return immediately to Ceylon.
The protocol officer was aghast and said that would be an insult to the Queen. Dudley in turn retorted that the protocol arrangements were an insult to his country. Finally a carriage was found and Dudley rode in style in the royal procession to the coronation.
So it was with mixed feelings that I awaited his arrival under the porch at Temple Trees on his second ceremonial entrance there as prime minister in March 1960. The general elections called by Dahanayake who had succeeded to the position on the assassination of S W R D Bandaranaike had been inconclusive. Prime Minister Dahanayake’s own party, the Lanka Prajantantra Party, hastily formed days after the dissolution -of the Parliament in December 1959, had been obliterated. Dahanayake himself lost his seat in Galle, while only four of his party’s 101 candidates were returned.
Without the semblance of an organized party behind them the majority of his men lost even their deposits. Neither the UNP led by Dudley or the SLFP led by C P de Silva, since Mrs Bandaranaike had refused the leadership of her slain husband’s party, had an outright majority.
The major party breakdown in a Parliament of 151 members was as follows:
UNP 50
SLFP 46
FP 13
MEP 10
LSSP 10
Since the UNP had a slender lead over the SLFP the Governor-General Sir Oliver Goonetilleke, invited Dudley to form the government. It was a tough situation as we sat down to work in his small office downstairs. “It’s a sticky wicket I have to bat on,” he observed using a well-known cricketing metaphor. “Sir,” I replied, “there are only two ways to deal with that. Put your head down and play each ball with a dead straight bat, or hit out and hope for the best.” “I know,” he said, “Lets see. The only thing I can’t make up my mind about is which of the two to do.”
Dudley appointed a Cabinet of eight, the smallest by far, in the country’s history. He clearly needed the support of another party and the likely candidates were the Federal Party with 13 and the MEP led by Philip Gunawardene with 10 members. The FP was playing difficult to get with a program of Minimum Demands which Dudley could not possibly give in to. Philip, with whom Dudley had excellent personal relations although ideologically they were at polar opposites on basic issues, seemed to offer some chance for a while.
The Throne Speech was the first hurdle and he went for it again using rice as a chief weapon. He promised to reintroduce the rice subsidy of two measures at 25 cents each, and put it in the speech. The speech he made winding up the debate was the finest I have ever heard him make. It was from the beginning a losing cause. But he was at his best. The rhetoric flowing, his head thrust forward, his forefinger stabbing the air to emphasise the point, and all the while his eyes fixed firmly on Philip in the opposition front bench.
Philip, with his renewed MEP had become the darling of the press in the short campaign. For a while the maha kalu Sinhalaya had captured the popular imagination as the coming ‘third force’. Philip was undoubtedly moved, but the magnificent speech which finally called for the formation of a national government was not enough. The magic had not worked. When the votes were counted the results showed that the government had been defeated. Ayes 61: Noes 86. Dudley lost no time in advising the governor-general the next morning to dissolve the shortest Parliament Ceylon was likely to see and hold another general election in July.
Dudley’s Celebrated Stomach
Although strong in physique and a natural athlete as his school record on the sports ground indicated, Dudley had a very weak and erratic stomach. The origins of his gastritis or peptic ulcer, about which he knew a great deal, were obscure and no physician in Washington, London or Singapore had been able to accurately diagnose what was wrong and what he should do to cure the malady. It was rumoured, probably unfairly, that he had brought it upon himself by indulging in some hefty meals when his stomach was completely functional, which was not often.
There was an apocryphal story going round whenever ‘Dudley’s stomach’ was the subject of discussion, that once, at school he had, on a bet, eaten a record number of 120 string-hoppers’ at one sitting. I observed that he was very concerned at eating at the right time, because as he repeatedly instructed his genial giant of a bodyguard, A S P Shantung Abeygunewardene, the gastric juices began to flow at regular intervals and if one disturbed the pattern by irregular intake of food, one was heading for trouble.
Another story was about his attempting to diet while at Cambridge and confining himself to a fruit diet for awhile. There he became so ill that he could hardly retain water. K S Periyasamy, the fabulous south Indian cook at the prime minister’s lodge in Nuwara Eliya, who could produce gourmet meals without a cook book – he used to say the recipes were in his heart – would tell us when we went up for holidays that Dudley had one of the biggest appetites he had encountered. Apparently Mrs D S, Dudley’s mother, had warned him to always, When they had guests for dinner, make certain that Dudley was served last.
The July 1960 election saw a rearrangement of forces whose main objective was the defeat of the UNP Sirimavo Bandaranaike had replaced C P de Silva as leader of the SLFP and combining in a no-contest pact with the LSSP and the C P swept the polls. The results showed the following party positions in a House of 151:
SLFP 75
UNP 30
Federal Party 16
LSSP 12
C P 4
Dudley bowed to the verdict of the people and I wended my now familiar way to Queens House with his resignation letter in hand. Ceylon was poised to make history with the first woman prime minister in the world waiting in the wings.
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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