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Fine sportsman, great debater, big appetite but weak stomach

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Dudley Senanayake

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.



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Tusker Kavantissa’s death exposes Sri Lanka’s wildlife conservation crisis

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Kavantissa

by Prof. Ranjith Bandara,
Emeritus Professor, University of Colombo

This article examines why community exclusion, excessive bureaucratic control, unequal distribution of conservation benefits, weak institutional accountability, and short-sighted political leadership continue to undermine wildlife conservation in Sri Lanka.

The death of Tusker Kavantissa is more than the loss of one of Sri Lanka’s most remarkable wild elephants. It exposes uncomfortable questions about how we protect our natural heritage, how conservation decisions are made, and why repeated warnings have failed to produce meaningful reforms. His death should compel us to examine not only what happened to one extraordinary animal, but also the deeper weaknesses in our wildlife conservation system.

Tusker Kavantissa, one of Sri Lanka’s most prominent wild tuskers, died on 16 October, 2026, after receiving veterinary treatment for an injury, reportedly caused by gunfire. Although the wound had shown some improvement, his health subsequently deteriorated. The precise cause of death requires confirmation through a proper post-mortem examination. Nevertheless, the circumstances raise serious questions about preventive protection, wildlife management, and institutional preparedness.

The wider picture is equally disturbing. According to recently reported figures, Sri Lanka has lost an average of approximately 402 elephants and 138 people annually, since 2019, due to human–elephant conflict. These figures reflect a continuing national tragedy affecting both wildlife and rural communities.

What Sri Lanka faces today is not merely a wildlife conservation problem. It is also a crisis of environmental governance, shaped by institutional weaknesses, political decisions, and the failure to recognise the economic and social realities of conservation.

Conservation without communities

One of the fundamental weaknesses of our conservation approach is that local communities are often treated as subjects of regulation rather than partners in conservation. They are expected to bear the risks, respect restrictions, and cooperate with government programmes, yet their influence over decisions affecting their lives remains limited.

For rural families living alongside wild elephants, conservation is not an abstract environmental objective. It directly affects their safety, agricultural income, property, and everyday lives.

Farmers frequently possess valuable knowledge about elephant movements, vulnerable locations, seasonal changes, and practical protection measures. Yet conservation interventions are sometimes designed without adequately considering this experience.

When decisions are imposed from above, communities may feel excluded from programmes they are expected to support. This weakens trust, reduces cooperation, and ultimately undermines conservation outcomes.

We must recognise that protecting elephants and protecting farmers are not conflicting objectives. Both are essential. A conservation policy that safeguards wildlife while neglecting human security cannot be considered successful.

The real challenge is to replace conservation imposed on communities with conservation undertaken alongside them. Meaningful participation requires more than consultation meetings. Communities must have a genuine role in planning, implementing, monitoring, and evaluating conservation activities.

Bureaucratic authority versus public accountability

Wildlife conservation requires strong institutions, professional expertise, and effective regulations. However, excessive bureaucratic control can become an obstacle when administrative authority takes precedence over practical outcomes.

Decision-making in Sri Lanka’s conservation system remains heavily dependent on central institutions. Administrative procedures, overlapping responsibilities, and limited coordination can delay responses to urgent problems.

More importantly, excessive centralisation can discourage local innovation and prevent communities from contributing practical solutions.

When administrative authority becomes more important than results, conservation risks becoming an exercise in controlling people rather than protecting nature.

This criticism should not be confused with questioning the dedication of frontline wildlife officers and veterinarians. Many work under difficult conditions with limited resources. The efforts undertaken to save Tusker Kavantissa deserve recognition.

However, individual commitment cannot compensate indefinitely for institutional weaknesses.

We must ask whether our conservation institutions have the capacity to identify risks early, protect vulnerable animals, coordinate emergency responses, and evaluate the effectiveness of their interventions.

Public accountability should, therefore, extend beyond compliance with administrative procedures to measurable conservation outcomes.

Who bears costs, and who receives benefits?

Perhaps the most neglected dimension of wildlife conservation in Sri Lanka is the unequal distribution of its economic costs and benefits.

Wild elephants contribute substantially to tourism, biodiversity, cultural heritage, and the country’s international image. Their conservation generates benefits enjoyed by society as a whole.

Yet the financial and personal costs are concentrated among rural communities living within elephant habitats.

A study published in 2023, involving 300 farming households in southern Sri Lanka, revealed a striking imbalance. Although these households lived near two national parks, none received economic benefits from tourism. Meanwhile, 57 percent had experienced elephant-related crop damage.

The findings raise a fundamental economic question: if the entire country benefits from elephant conservation, why should a relatively small and vulnerable section of society bear a disproportionate share of its costs?

Conservation cannot remain economically sustainable when its benefits are widely enjoyed but its costs are concentrated among those least able to bear them.

A separate study, published in 2024, involving 439 affected farming households, examined the possibility of financing compensation through tourism revenue. It demonstrated the potential for tourism-based financial mechanisms to support human–elephant coexistence.

The policy implications are significant

A proportion of wildlife tourism revenue could be directed towards affected communities through transparent benefit-sharing arrangements. Such measures could support compensation, village protection, local employment, community enterprises, and agricultural improvements.

However, financial compensation alone is insufficient. The 2023 study also indicated that fear of elephants and concerns about crop damage strongly influenced community attitudes. People must feel safe in their homes and farms, not merely receive payment after suffering losses.

Equitable benefit-sharing is, therefore, more than an act of generosity. It is an economic and social requirement for sustainable conservation.

Political decisions and absence of long-term vision

The weaknesses in wildlife conservation cannot be attributed solely to public officials. Political leadership must accept its share of responsibility.

Poor land-use planning, habitat fragmentation, obstruction of elephant movement corridors, and development decisions that inadequately consider environmental consequences have contributed to human–elephant conflict.

Political decisions made for immediate gains can create environmental and economic costs lasting for decades.

Another weakness is the preference for visible, short-term interventions.

Constructing electric fences, relocating elephants, and launching emergency operations can attract considerable publicity. However, such interventions should be evaluated according to their effectiveness, not their visibility.

Political leadership should be judged not by the number of conservation programmes announced, but by the lives protected, conflicts prevented, and long-term improvements achieved.

There is also a serious problem of policy continuity. Conservation cannot be governed according to electoral cycles or changing political priorities.

Elephant habitats, migration patterns, and ecological processes do not change with governments. Successful conservation, therefore, requires consistent national commitments extending beyond individual political administrations.

Without such continuity, public investment may be wasted while the underlying problems remain unresolved.

Problem is not always a lack of policy

Sri Lanka’s conservation crisis cannot be explained simply by a shortage of scientific knowledge or policy recommendations.

In many instances, the greater challenge lies in translating available knowledge into coordinated, adequately funded, and politically supported action.

The National Action Plan for the Mitigation of Human–Elephant Conflict, prepared in 2020, proposed a science-based approach that emphasised community participation, protection of villages and agricultural land, and more effective conflict-management strategies.

Yet an important question remains: how much of this plan has been implemented successfully?

Have implementation difficulties arisen from inadequate resources, weak institutional coordination, administrative resistance, or insufficient political commitment?

An independent assessment of the plan’s implementation would help identify these obstacles and establish clear responsibilities.

We must also recognise that a substantial proportion of Sri Lanka’s wild elephants live outside protected areas. Attempting to confine all elephants within national parks and forest reserves is, therefore, neither realistic nor sustainable.

Effective conservation requires land-use policies informed by elephant ecology, settlement patterns, agricultural needs, and the practical realities of human–wildlife coexistence.

A sound policy that remains largely unimplemented offers little protection to either elephants or people.

Towards more responsible conservation system

Sri Lanka needs a fundamental change in how wildlife conservation is governed.

Four priorities deserve immediate attention.

First, local communities must become genuine partners in conservation management, with meaningful responsibilities and decision-making opportunities.

Second, conservation benefits must be distributed more fairly. Wildlife tourism should contribute directly to protecting the livelihoods and safety of communities that bear conservation costs.

Third, existing national conservation plans should be independently reviewed to identify implementation gaps and establish a realistic timetable for corrective action.

Fourth, conservation institutions must become more accountable for measurable outcomes, including reductions in human deaths, elephant mortality, crop losses, and property damage.

These reforms require cooperation among wildlife, forestry, agriculture, land, irrigation, and local government institutions.

They also demand political leadership willing to prioritise long-term results over short-term publicity.

For exceptional animals, such as Tusker Kavantissa, improved risk monitoring, preventive protection, and timely veterinary responses are particularly important. However, conservation should not be limited to protecting a few well-known animals.

Every wild elephant has ecological value, just as every person living alongside elephants has an equal right to safety.

The objective must be a system that protects both.

Lesson tusker Kavantissa leaves behind

The death of Tusker Kavantissa should not become another moment of national sorrow that gradually fades from public memory. It should mark a turning point in how Sri Lanka approaches wildlife conservation.

A proper investigation into his death is essential. Equally important is an honest examination of the conservation system within which such tragedies continue to occur.

The real challenge is not choosing between people and elephants. It is creating a system in which both can coexist safely, and where the responsibilities, costs, and benefits of conservation are shared fairly.

This requires more than scientific expertise and stronger regulations. It demands accountable institutions, meaningful community participation, economic fairness, and political leadership guided by a clear long-term vision.

Our greatest failure would not be the loss of Tusker Kavantissa alone. It would be allowing the same weaknesses in our conservation system to claim more lives while we continue to avoid the reforms that could prevent them.

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Equality before the Law as foundation of Sri Lanka’s recovery

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Gnanasara Thera brought to court, dressed in lay attire

by Jehan Perera

The government appears set to overcome the first major challenge to one of its foundational principles. It has faced down demands from sections of the Buddhist clergy and opposition parties to release Ven. Galagodaatte Gnanasara from his prison sentence for contempt of court.

Ven Gnanasara is best known as the general secretary of the Bodu Bala Sena, a nationalist Sinhala grouping. The government seemed unfazed by a protest march organised by Buddhist monks and the opposition parties and its supporters organised an even bigger march to support the government’s position. It is notable that the general population did not get involved in either march in any substantial number. The issue has now become a test of whether the government will uphold its commitment to apply the law equally, irrespective of a person’s position or status, even when doing so brings it into conflict with a powerful constituency.

The case has a specific legal history. Ven. Gnanasara was sentenced to six years’ imprisonment by the Court of Appeal in 2018 for contempt of court in a case involving former military personnel where he disrupted the proceedings. The Supreme Court rejected his appeal in 2018. Former President Maithripala Sirisena subsequently granted him a presidential pardon in 2019. Last month, the Supreme Court invalidated that pardon. The initial demand by Buddhist monks and their lay supporters was that Ven. Gnanasara should be permitted to wear his Buddhist robes when appearing in public before the courts. The government has indicated its willingness to examine the procedures governing the treatment of Buddhist monks in prison, in consultation with the relevant religious authorities. However, the initial demand has now been escalated into a demand for a presidential pardon.

One of the central promises of the National People’s Power (NPP) during its election campaign two years ago was to apply the law equally to all. This commitment has shaped the government’s approach to allegations of corruption and criminality involving individuals who previously wielded political power. The NPP government was swept into power on a wave of antipathy towards those in previous governments who were perceived to have abused their positions for private gain. The economic collapse Sri Lanka experienced in 2022, and the hardships endured across society, remain vivid in the public memory. The past two years have seen the government pursuing those accused of corruption and other offences. Several high-ranking members of previous governments have faced arrest and legal proceedings and been sentenced to jail.

Religious Concerns

The ability of opposition parties to mobilise widespread resistance against proceedings involving their leaders has been limited, as much of the general population continues to favour accountability for past financial crimes. However, the case of Ven. Gnanasara is different. It does not concern allegations of financial corruption, but the relationship between religious authority, the courts and the law of the land. This is where the distinction between respecting religious traditions and upholding the law becomes crucial. There is a sense among sections of the general population that Buddhist monks should not be treated on a par with others and that requiring Ven. Gnanasara to appear in court without his robes was unjust and contrary to the national ethos. Such sentiments reflect the special place Buddhism occupies in Sri Lanka’s history and society. Sinhala Buddhist nationalism has been a potent political force throughout the country’s history, drawing on a heritage that extends back more than two millennia. The question is whether respect for Buddhism needs to also entail the exemption of individual monks from the ordinary requirements of the law and thereby treat them differently.

The challenge would be to accommodate legitimate religious concerns through rational and lawful procedures without allowing religious status to become a source of legal privilege. The government has been amenable to addressing the issue of monastic robes, but has so far resisted the demand to release Ven. Gnanasara through a new pardon. President Anura Kumara Dissanayake and government members have made it clear that the government would not bend the law to accommodate any individual. They have taken the position that any shortcomings in existing rules should be addressed by changing the rules through proper procedures, rather than by making an exception for a particular individual. If the government holds its position, it will demonstrate that its commitment to the rule of law extends even to constituencies that have historically enjoyed considerable political influence.

This is important not only for the country’s democratic institutions but also for its economic future. Sri Lanka is seeking to recover from its economic collapse and establish the foundations for sustained growth. The International Monetary Fund’s analysis of Sri Lanka’s governance weaknesses has repeatedly emphasised the economic costs of corruption and institutional deficiencies. Its 2024 analysis of governance and growth concluded that comprehensive and coherent reforms could bring significant macroeconomic benefits. The IMF’s 2025 assessment also highlighted the importance of sustained governance reforms in unlocking the country’s growth potential. Investors, both domestic and foreign, need confidence that public institutions function according to predictable rules, that contracts and property rights are protected, and that political connections or social status will not determine how the law is applied.

Sensitive Issue

Sri Lanka has long sought the leap towards prosperity that has proved elusive under successive governments. Economic reform alone will not achieve it. The connection between the rule of law and economic prosperity is direct. Businesses are more likely to invest when they can expect disputes to be resolved fairly, public resources to be managed transparently and regulatory decisions to be made on rational grounds. No country can achieve a durable economic take-off if its institutions are perceived to operate according to political favour, inherited privilege or communal pressure. Sri Lanka cannot afford to return to a political culture in which powerful interests are shielded from accountability while ordinary citizens bear the costs.

Changing a political culture that has evolved over the decades if not centuries is a difficult undertaking, particularly in a country where political leaders have long relied on religious and communal identities to consolidate their support. It requires not only firmness but also sensitivity, dialogue and a willingness to reform laws and institutions where genuine deficiencies exist. The present controversy offers an opportunity to demonstrate that these objectives need not be in conflict. The government can respect the Buddhist clergy’s concerns about the treatment of monks in prison while refusing to grant an individual an exemption from a judicial sentence. It can recognise the importance of Buddhism to the country while maintaining that no religious or political authority stands above the law.

The question is whether national traditions and ethos are interpreted in ways that strengthen justice, responsibility and social harmony, or invoked to defend privileges that undermine them. The country needs a transformation in public expectations from privilege to accountability, from communal claims to equal citizenship, and from personal discretion to institutions governed by law.

The government’s handling of the case involving Ven. Gnanasara is therefore about more than one monk or one sentence. This particular case will determine whether the government can build a system in which no government, religious authority or politically influential individuals can place themselves beyond the law. A just society must be able to honour both its traditions and its commitment to equality before the law.

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Lure of old hometown too hard to resist

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Highly adaptive one-man band / At Broadway Dehiwela on 24th October

Lanka was his homeland, and now it’s Australia, based in Sydney. But for legendary performer Roger Menezes, the lure of his old hometown is just too hard to resist — and he keeps coming this way, ever so often!

Roger is in town at the moment — his fourth trip for this year alone! In fact, for the last few years, he has been checking out Sri Lanka on a very frequent basis.

This time, he says, he will be here for just two weeks, as he has heavy commitments, Down Under, as a performer.

On the 24th of this month, he will be seen in action at Broadway Dehiwela, celebrating their second anniversary. It’s a homecoming of sorts, as he was the very first artiste to perform live at this venue, on their opening night!

He goes back to Sydney in November for an early Christmas party, and will be back, in Colombo, in December, for more performances, with a pre-New Year’s Eve party at the Broadway, on 30th December.

Roger says he also takes the opportunity, whenever he visits Sri Lanka, to soak in the beauty of our country, especially the serene scenes away from the hustle and bustle of Colombo!

Roger Menezes: Fourth trip for this year

Roger Menezes is truly a remarkable talent, and it is always a sheer pleasure to look into the careers of musicians who have left such a lasting, indelible mark on Sri Lanka’s rich musical heritage.

Known for his signature “hits and memories” performance style — a nostalgic, heart-warming blend of jazz, pop, and classic rock — he remains a foundational figure of Sri Lanka’s golden era of music.

He was deeply integrated into Colombo’s swinging 1960s and 70s music scene.

He played drums for iconic groups like The Savages, Thunderbirds, and Fireflies, played guitar for Sam the Man, and joined the legendary band The Jetliners as their keyboardist, saxophonist, and guitarist (additionally recording bass guitar tracks). He also fronted his own much-loved ensemble, Roger and the Webs.

He migrated to Sydney, Australia, in the early ’70s and the legend only grew.

In Australia, he founded the highly successful corporate and event bands Eastern Spice and Stay Tuned (alongside his wife Cheryl and family). Under his leadership, Stay Tuned was heavily involved in providing entertainment for corporate functions, organised by the Sydney 2000 Olympic Committee. The group also headlined the New Year’s Eve festivities at Sydney’s iconic Centrepoint Tower for five consecutive years!

Today, he is widely celebrated as a highly adaptive one-man band, simultaneously navigating vocals, keyboards, guitar, saxophone, and drums — a one-man orchestra who truly does it all!

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