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More on keeping the nation fed during July 1983 riots

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1983 ethnic violence

The question of extending credit to traders to maintain stocks of rice, flour and sugar came up next. They did have serious problems due to the shortened banking hours. This had to be financed. We had already extended credit to companies and firms through the Chambers of Commerce and Industry, and this was working well. The overall climate in the country was still murky and far from settled. The ready availability of food was a critical factor in relieving people of a sense of anxiety and stress, and in restoring normalcy. But here we ran the risk of some of the stocks advanced on credit not being paid for.

I informed the Minister, as well as the Cabinet Secretary Mr. G.V.P. Samarasinghe who was also a close adviser of the President, that I was going to take the risk of authorizing advances on a studied basis. The free availability of the staple commodities was vital. It would also relieve the pressure on the Co-operatives which was nearly at breaking point. The Minister approved. The Cabinet Secretary told me. “We have already lost billions, another 100 million won’t matter.”

I for my part was determined not to lose anything. We organized a rapid screening system which identified those to whom credit would be extended. Two weeks credit was extended to them. Concurrently I formed a sub unit headed by an Assistant Accountant, whose responsibility was to chase after the debtors and ensure that they paid. There was no interest charged. Among the many items reviewed at my daily meetings this item was one. The system worked. We recovered everything that was due to us except for Rs. 25,000 from a party to whom we were compelled to give credit due to intense political pressure. This pressure did not come from the Minister. He always acted properly.

President Jayewardene’s order

We had got to a point, where with great difficulty and almost round the clock work by numerous officials, the situation was substantially under control, when one morning the President rang me. “Pieris,” he said, “My security people tell me that they cannot enforce the curfew properly because large numbers of your lorries are running all over the place. Please get this stopped.” I tried to explain to him the consequences of doing so. If the thousands of wholesale and retail points could not be stocked on a continuous basis, there would not be food available. Then he would be faced with an undreamed of security situation.

The President was as usual calm and affable, but stubborn. It was obvious that some security advisors who were totally ignorant of the implications of such a decision had literally brain-washed the President. “Pieris,” the President continued after listening to me. “No, get the lorries off the road during curfew hours, otherwise my people would have to shoot them!” The latter part was said more humorously than seriously. But it was clear that he was not prepared to give his mind to the serious implications involved. I had no choice, but to say that I will pass the message down.

This was both frightening and demoralizing. I tried to get at the Minister. He was not available. It was clear that the Minister had to be briefed about the consequences of this decision and persuaded to go and meet the President. But pending this, some action had to be taken at least to create the appearance that steps were being taken to implement the decision. I sent for Austin Fernando, the Commissioner of Cooperative Development. He was not working from his office at Duke Street, but from the Head Office of the Colombo North Multi-Purpose Co-operative Society in the Pettah.

When he came, I briefed him on what had happened. He was as surprised and frustrated as I was. Only we who worked 14 hours a day. covering every detail and solving every problem that came up could see the magnitude of the blunder that was ordered to be committed. We were convinced that if the smooth flow of the operation which included the port, food store complexes, the co-operatives and the private sector dealers, was interfered with that an adverse impact would result within 24 hours. If it went on for 48 hours, there would have been a complete breakdown in food supplies leading to riots and serious civil unrest.

1983 riots

Austin and I therefore decided to play for time. We issued some desultory verbal instructions here and there, just to be able to say that we were on the job, if someone checked back. In the meantime, a search was going on for the Minister. When we finally contacted him it was early afternoon. He saw the problem at once and was appalled at the decision. He undertook to meet the President in his home at Ward Place during early evening. Eventually, the decision was rescinded and sanity prevailed.

A few days after these problems arose, Bradman Weerakoon was appointed as the Commissioner General of Essential Services. His job was to deal with any bottlenecks and exercise an overall co-ordination. As far as food was concerned he had no problem. We only provided him with the daily statistics pertaining to our efforts. All of us functioned under draconian Emergency Regulations. I was sent a set under confidential cover. I was quite surprised to find that in the maintenance of essential services – and food was one of the most essential – the regulations gave me powers to requisition buildings, vehicles and even persons!

I did not show them to anyone else, securely locked them up in my drawer and never looked at them again. It has always been my view that practically anything you want can be achieved without using power, just by a process of rational discussion and understanding. During those difficult days too, events fortified this belief of mine. I did not requisition anything.

Standards in the public service

Before I leave this subject there are a few miscellaneous matters of interest which I wish to record. Mr. Pulendiran the Food Commissioner and his wife had suffered serious loss of property and psychological trauma when their house and car were burnt down by mobs. Their house was fairly close to the Dehiwela canal bank, and the mob had originated from the shanty dwellers living there. Fortunately his house had been insured. But now they had no place to stay. They were temporarily accommodated in quarters at the Prima Bakery in Rajagiriya.

Two days after these events, he turned up for work. Even their clothes were burnt with the house. I told him to settle down and rest for a few days. But he wouldn’t hear of it. He was a public servant and the head of an important department, and he wished to discharge his responsibilities. All of us were happy to have him back. Many helped them with clothes and other requisites. The dedication of Mr. Pulendiran reflected the public service at its best.

I saw at close quarters how scores of my own officers worked during this period. There was no question of pushing or prodding. They worked punishingly long hours, very often without adequate or proper food. Many of them did not have time to eat, as was the case with me, on many a day. Sympathetic office aides kept us supplied with many cups of tea. Here again they decided when to serve the tea. There was no time for us to think about such matters. They kept a brotherly eye on us, and every time they thought we were flagging, in came the hot cups of tea which were a great restorer.

It had been my good fortune to witness this sense of public duty in many public servants. Another such was the case of my own cousin, Mr. M.B. Senanayake, who was the Senior Deputy Food Commissioner in the 1960’s. He was at the time living in a house very close to the sea at Kollupitiya. One violently stormy night a huge wave engulfed the house and they barely escaped with their lives. The garage outside was demolished by the wave and his car was in the sea with a photograph of it in the newspapers. The furniture, clothes and much else were soaked by the sea water.

Yet, with all this disruption, chaos and personal loss, he was in office at 10 a.m. to meet an Australian delegation, whilst his personal effects were being put out to dry on both sides of the public road. I remember reading Neville Jayaweera’s writing about his experience as Government Agent, Vavuniya during the time of the JVP insurgency of 1971. Many public servants had faced enormous dangers and personal loss, but kept on working and doing their duty. Some died at their posts. Criticism of the public service must be balanced by the great and lasting contributions made by it. Unfortunately, no one had done any sustained work in this area.

A conversation with a lady public servant

At the beginning of the week following, the terrible events of “Black Friday,” a senior Tamil lady public servant telephoned me and said she wished to see me to obtain some advice. I gave her an immediate appointment. When she met me she said that some of her close relations who were in London, wanted her to leave and come over immediately. She was not married. She was defiant. She felt that if she left it would be like running away. She was no coward and she did not wish to appear to be one.

“Damn it Sir,” she said. “This is my country. Why should I run away from my country?” I admired her spirit and her courage. But she was being pestered so much by her relations, she needed advice as to what to do. At that moment she was not capable of clear thought. I said that she was casting a heavy responsibility on me. Having thought about the matter, I told her that all of us had been shaken by the events of the previous Friday in particular. I had no idea whatsoever, as to what really was happening, who was behind it and what further course it would take.

Under these circumstances, my view was that personal safety came first. Therefore, I advised her to go abroad for a short period, and come back once things settled down. She thanked me and said that she would follow my advice. Thereafter she took leave of me, got up and walked towards the door. Suddenly, she turned back and walking up to me said “Sir, why can’t we send all our bloody politicians on compulsory leave for 10 years?” She was exceedingly generous. This was a time when a considerable section of intelligent and educated people belonging to all communities wished to visit far harsher punishments on our politicians of all colours, hues, groups and persuasions.

Complexities of human behaviour

The country gradually settled down and a sense of normalcy was restored. Amidst the gloom, there were shinning beacons of light. Many Sinhalese took great risks in sheltering Tamil families in their own homes. Most of the neighbourhoods did their best to protect both life and property. Down our own lane the Sinhalese, in alliance with others in adjoining lanes saw to it that not a single stone was thrown at a house. So, when our Tamil neighbours returned from their stay in a refugee camp, they had only sweeping and dusting to do.

The Sinhalese driver of the Chief Accountant Food Department Mr. Khatamuttu, risked his life in getting him and his family out of their house in Ratmalana under extremely trying and even dangerous circumstances. Such acts were numerous and widespread. Most of the acts of violence were orchestrated by squads of goons from outside. The neighbourhoods held. and the sense of community never disappeared. Human nature however is very strange. There are some people who cannot triumph over their prejudices whatever the circumstances.

A senior public servant who was helping out at the refugee camp established at Mahanama College told me that one day there was a near riot when the lunch packets were being distributed, because some who had claimed to be “high caste” Tamils vehemently objected to some deemed to be “low caste” being served first. They had also objected to some of those “low caste” being accommodated upstairs in one of the school buildings whilst some of those of “high caste” were being accommodated downstairs. He was a Sinhalese. There was a caste system operating amongst the Sinhalese, which had become much watered down over the years. This was his first exposure to the rigidities of the caste system as practiced by some Tamils.

(Excerpted from In Pursuit of Governance, autobiography of MDD Pieris) ✍️



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Coercive laws recipe for future misrule

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by Jehan Perera

The NPP government is going after powerful figures from the past and present who have engaged in corruption, fraud and criminal activity in a way that no previous government in Sri Lanka has done. Former ministers, politicians and senior state officials are among those facing investigations and legal proceedings. The government has placed before Parliament a document listing 50 cases involving corruption, fraud and other crimes. These include not only financial offences but also cases relating to the Easter Sunday attacks, the killings of Lasantha Wickrematunge and Wasim Thajudeen, the disappearance of Prageeth Ekneligoda and attacks on journalists Keith Noyahr and Upali Tennakoon.

The significance of this effort is that it can demonstrate that nobody is above the law, regardless of political connections or social standing, which will help restore public confidence in institutions that have long been distrusted. It could also recover public resources, improve the investment climate and strengthen the foundations for a more prosperous and just Sri Lanka. When criticised for focusing on the past and not the present, the government position is that these investigations were initiated under earlier governments, particularly between 2015 and 2019, and that it is now allowing investigators to proceed to deal with the backlog without political interference.

But there is an aspect of the government’s approach that is less justifiable. While pursuing past wrongdoing by powerful individuals, it is also advancing a triumvirate of draft laws that could give the state sweeping powers over citizens, organisations and dissent in the present and future. The draft Prevention of Terrorism legislation, the Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill and the NGO Registration and Supervision Bill raise serious questions about the over-centralisation of power. Each of these laws strengthens the powers of the state while weakening the rights and safeguards that protect people from their misuse and thus questions the basic rights of people in democracy where ‘the power of the people is vested in the government’. This is a recipe for future misrule rather than the rule of law. As the well-known saying goes, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Proposed Laws

The real test of system change, for which the government obtained an overwhelming mandate, requires not only a government willing to hold others accountable, but one prepared to subject itself to the same principles of legality, transparency and restraint. The three proposed laws that are particularly important in this regard are the Protection of the State from Terrorism Bill, the Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill and the NGO Registration and Supervision Bill. Each of these draft laws has been presented as serving a legitimate purpose. Preventing terrorism, combating organised crime and ensuring that NGOs do not facilitate money laundering or terrorist financing are proper responsibilities of the state. Sri Lanka has international obligations in these areas, and no responsible government can disregard them. However, the existence of a legitimate objective does not justify every means adopted to achieve it.

The proposed Protection of the State from Terrorism Bill illustrates the problem. Although its definition of terrorism draws on a model developed by a former United Nations Special Rapporteur, the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka has warned that the definition of terrorism extends beyond the model and could bring legitimate political protest, trade union action and civil disobedience within the scope of counter-terrorism legislation. Its concerns also include prolonged detention, inadequate judicial oversight and restrictions on access to legal counsel. These are objections that go to the heart of the relationship between the citizen and the state. The government cannot credibly promise to protect democratic freedoms while creating powers that could be used to restrict them. It is necessary for the government to reassess the draft through transparent consultation and revise provisions that could criminalise legitimate dissent.

The Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill raises similar concerns. It is presented as giving effect to the United Nations Convention against Transnational Organised Crime, which Sri Lanka ratified in 2006. The Centre for Policy Alternatives (CPA) has argued that the convention does not require many of the bill’s provisions. The proposed law extends to a broad range of offences, permits detention orders lasting up to a year, makes confessions to police admissible for purposes of legal evidence, and introduces extensive surveillance powers. A law intended to dismantle criminal networks should not create a parallel system of exceptional powers that could be applied far beyond organised crime. Nor should safeguards developed through years of experience with abuses under the Prevention of Terrorism Act be weakened through legislation bearing a different name. The government should review whether or not existing laws could be used effectively to control these crimes or whether each exceptional power is necessary.

Civil Society

The proposed NGO Registration and Supervision Bill presents another test of the government’s intentions. The government may reasonably seek transparency in the finances of organisations receiving public or foreign funds, including measures to prevent money laundering and terrorist financing. It seeks to justify its overreach on the grounds of meeting the internationally mandated requirements of the Financial Action Task Force (FATF) for the Asia-Pacific region. But these objectives do not justify placing civil society and NGOs under excessive administrative control when even the FATF ranks them as low to medium risks. The draft bill would require registration and renewal, impose extensive obligations on organisations and empower authorities to suspend or deregister them on broadly framed grounds. It is important to redraft provisions that confer excessive discretion over registration, renewal, suspension and deregistration of NGOs.

Among the concerns raised by United Nations human rights special rapporteurs with regard to the draft NGO law are provisions requiring organisations to align with government policies and restrictions that could affect advocacy, dissent and freedom of association. The implications extend well beyond organisations that engage directly with the government. Community groups, human rights organisations, independent researchers and organisations working on reconciliation or accountability could find their activities constrained by uncertainty over how these provisions might be interpreted. Organisations that criticise government policies are not thereby working against the country. Their freedom to do so is part of what distinguishes a democracy from a system in which the government determines which opinions and activities are acceptable.

The government has generated considerable public goodwill through its pursuit of corruption and criminality. It should not assume that this goodwill gives it an unlimited mandate to strengthen the coercive powers of the state. The NPP knows from its own history that governments can treat dissent as a threat and use the machinery of the state against their opponents. There is still time to correct the drafts through transparent public consultation, narrow definitions of offences, meaningful judicial control over detention and surveillance, and effective remedies against arbitrary decisions. A government that pursues corruption while weakening safeguards against state abuse risks undermining its own achievements. Besides bringing to light the abuse of power by previous governments, the NPP government needs to build a system in which no future government can abuse power in the belief they can get away with it.

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Quality assurance without quality enhancement: The irony of university QA

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By Ramya Kumar

According to the Quality Assurance Council (QAC) of the University Grants Commission (UGC), quality assurance (QA) refers to “the means (i.e. the policies, attitudes, actions, procedures, etc.), by which an institution can guarantee with confidence and certainty, that the standards and quality of its educational provision are being maintained and enhanced”.

An expansive structure has been in place since 2005 to govern and implement QA processes within the state university system. The QAC is the focal point at the UGC that implements external reviews of state universities and institutes. Each university has its own Centre for Quality Assurance (CQA) tasked with performing QA in line with QAC directives. Faculties, in turn, have Internal Quality Assurance Cells (IQAC) performing their own QA; they are answerable to the CQA.

The big question is whether this all-encompassing top-down QA system, that in many ways undermines the internal dynamics of university governance, actually supports universities to enhance the quality of education. This article highlights some concerns.

Top-down check-box activities

The QAC conducts external reviews of universities and degree programmes. A review team appointed by the UGC (who may or may not have experience in the institution/programme in question) examines the self-evaluation report submitted by the said institution/programme. The team then conducts a site visit to verify the claims made in the university’s self-evaluation report, clarify issues identified during the desk review, and examine how QA procedures operate in practice. The team holds meetings with the university administration, members of the Council and Senate, Deans, Heads of Departments, academic and non-academic staff, students, and others. Following the visit, a draft report is submitted to the relevant institution/programme for comment before final publication. The reviewed institution/programme then prepares and publishes an action plan addressing the recommendations, with subsequent monitoring of progress.

There are some worthy QA initiatives under implementation, such as improving facilities for students with disabilities and strengthening mechanisms to address sexual- and gender-based violence. However, for the most part, QA activities have little to do with improving the quality of education. They are mostly preoccupied with monitoring faculty and department websites, digital transformation, student feedback, subject evaluation, course evaluation, peer evaluation, and, more recently, staff appraisal. These activities, which consume an inordinate amount of time—so precious at understaffed universities—have become check-box activities completed to generate evidence for the next review. Below is an excerpt of a conversation between two academics (1 and 2) that conveys how QA plays out at universities (reproduced with permission).

1: … .it’s like social media you know, like posting things on Facebook or twitter or Instagram. When people do a lot of social media, everything they do, they do thinking, “okay I’m going to post it in this way… this I have to put on my Instagram.” QA is a little like that… everything is considered in light of, “ah we can use this for the review, as evidence… for example very recently we were encouraged to have all the things that we do in our department in the faculty newsletter so then they can put in the review. Every little thing has to be noted down….

2: And with pictures and all…

1: At the very least it has to be written so that you have written evidence .. you can’t be doing something for the sake of doing something or because it is good for the department … and sometimes people tell me “oh yea that’s a good idea we can fit that under this x, y section of the review..”

2: Yea, and nobody really thinks about the actual outcome… whether it’s actually helping anyone..

1: I also find that a lot of the words that we used in different ways have now been co-opted to the QA discourse ..including quality.. I can’t actually say what I want as an “outcome”, for example, that the outcome of this workshop is that my students “think about” … then I am told “ah but no that’s not one of the Bloom’s taxonomy words, “think about”.…

2: And the worst part is these medical and agriculture people, these types of people go around spreading it like some kind of gospel!

1: Yea, this cookie cutter way of doing things, they think is the height of innovativeness or creativity, when actually it is so mundane … for me the most awful thing about it is like some fungus of mundanity has taken over through QA reviews.

2: yea, when you say QA, my mind closes off immediately and I stop listening…

Auditing everything but power

QA leaves out crucial aspects of university governance. For instance, there is no review or assessment of the “quality” of university administrations under Criterion 1 or the integrity of procedures governing the promotion of academic staff under Criterion 6 of the institutional reviews.

The majority in the Council—the university’s executive and governing body, which is responsible for selecting the Vice-Chancellor (VC)—are appointed in ad hoc fashion. Apart from the Ex-Officio members in the Council (VC, Deans, etc.), and the two members elected by the Senate, the remainder are appointed by the UGC with no formal consultation or vetting procedure. The VC appointment process described in UGC Circular No. 03/2023 exemplifies how an ostensibly technical process can become entangled in political sycophancy. The Registrar invites applications for the position of VC through advertisement. Applicants must submit a curriculum vitae, a statement of vision for the university and supporting documents. The University Council appoints a three-member Search Committee of senior academics to encourage “eminent persons” to apply, while the UGC appoints a former VC from another university to “observe” the selection process.

A Special Meeting of the University Council is convened. Candidates are interviewed and must make a presentation to the Council Members, followed by questions. Each Council member “gives marks” for seven prescribed criteria: strategic focus (20%), effective leadership (20%), holistic thinking/conceptual skills (10%), academic and research excellence (15%), personal integrity (10%), professional communication (10%) and managerial competence (15%). Marks are averaged, and the Council recommends three candidates to the UGC in rank order. The UGC-appointed observer separately submits a confidential report on the selection process.

This procedure is expected to guarantee quality, but does it? Applications are submitted to the Council Members, who have been appointed on questionable bases, and who are expected to review the applications and give scores, based on objective assessments. But, in reality, most Council Members are manipulated by VC candidates, who often have personal ties with them. The UGC-appointed observer usually has no genuine interest in the outcome. And there is no way for anyone to actually question the Council’s decision once it is made. Although the highest-ranked candidate may ultimately be appointed, the selection remains a political decision made by the President, who retains the discretion to appoint any one of the three.

External reviews also do not look into the promotions of academic staff, except to scrutinise whether there are policies and procedures in place to govern promotion. Academic staff may apply for promotion to Professor once they satisfy the prescribed eligibility requirements, which typically include the period of service, academic qualifications, research and publication achievements, teaching experience, and contributions to the university and wider community. Applications are evaluated against specified criteria, with research output and academic contributions assessed through documentary evidence and expert evaluation. Under the UGC’s scheme for Professors, two experts from outside the applicant’s institution assess specified aspects of research and knowledge dissemination. Again, beneath this technical process, which is externally evaluated, lies a problematic points-based scheme that can be manipulated and abused with impunity.

Rethinking university QA

Like the VC election process and the schemes of promotion for academic staff, QA reviews are open to manipulation. Before a review, there is a chaotic rush to complete evidence gathering and reporting. Academics leave all other work aside, including at times their teaching, to focus on completing documentation and preparing reports. The standardised criteria in the review manuals and scoring sheets often do not reflect differences in disciplines and institutional contexts. But this does not really matter because any serious problems experienced by institutions or programmes are hastily brushed under the carpet to conceal any evidence that could taint the review. The goal is to obtain an A or at least a B grade at whatever cost.

QA may result in positive change if it moves beyond top-down check-box activities towards internally designed and owned processes encompassing all aspects of university governance, led by departments and faculties, and supported by adequate resources. The current QA system needs to be dismantled and replaced by procedures that are accountable, not to the UGC, but to our students and the communities we serve.

(Ramya Kumar is attached to the Department of Community and Family Medicine, Faculty of 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.

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Down Memory Lane — the Grand 20th Edition!

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Down Memory Lane: Ready to sing again

Yes, Down Memory Lane, the beloved Sing-Along concert series that first struck a chord, way back in 1997, returns for its landmark 20th edition this Saturday, 17th October, at the beautiful Bolgoda Grand Resort, Moratuwa town centre.

Having celebrated its glorious 25th anniversary with the show in 2023, this milestone 20th concert promises to be even more special.

The organisers, the ever-popular Moratuwa Arts Forum, are pulling out all the stops to present yet another unforgettable evening, brimming with camaraderie, fellowship, and pure nostalgia.

Get ready for two-and-a-half hours of non-stop singing as veteran vocalists, from the Moratuwa Arts Forum, will take the stage to lead and inspire the happy audience to sing, sing and sing to their hearts’ content.

The repertoire? Absolutely magical, according to the organisers.

Veteran Arun Dias Bandaranaike: Will handle the evening’s proceedings / Priya Peiris: Event Conceptor

Around 40 golden oldies — from timeless English vintage evergreens and hits from the 50s to the 90s, to toe-tapping calypsos, soulful American plantation melodies, rousing cowboy and Dixieland favourites, aa well as cherished Sinhala standards. All to be sung with much gusto!

This year’s dedicated organising committee comprises Brian Coorey (Chairman), Priya Peiris (Event Conceptor), Hiran Fernando, Suranga Fernando, Viranjan Perera, Hemka Fernando and Neelesh Silva. Guidance and support comes from Moratuwa Arts Forum President Sarana Guneratne and Secretary Chandani Silva.

Adding his signature charm to the evening, as Master of Ceremonies, will be the veteran Arun Dias Bandaranaike.

Don’t miss this landmark celebration of music and memories!

For further details, contact Hiran Fernando on 0772636446 or WhatsApp 0783636446.

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