Connect with us

Features

OLD REST HOUSES OF THE JAFFNA PENINSULA

Published

on

by HUGH KARUNANAYAKE

Rest houses were the pioneering institutions associated with the hospitality industry in Ceylon of the period between the 18th and 20th Centuries. Readers may be surprised to note that “Rest House” is an institution found only in Sri Lanka. The name seems to be derived from the Dutch term Rust Huys which was the appellation in use when they were originally established during the days of Dutch rule over the island’s maritime provinces. They were originally used as inns or hostelry for the use of the Governor or leading government officials when visiting local areas when there were neither hotels nor proper roads to the island. Its Indian counterpart during days of British rule was called “Inspection Bungalows” or IBs and also as Dak bungalows.

Over the years, rest houses in Ceylon became popular places for holidaying and for rest and recreation especially during colonial days when many of them were established across the country, mainly as accommodation for government officials on “circuit”, as inspection tours were officially known. They also served as convenient accommodation for the local traveller, there being hardly any alternative in those early days.

Most rest houses were located on sites chosen for their scenic beauty or strategic position. The discerning eye of the old British provincial engineers of the PWD has to be acknowledged for the inspiring locations of most Rest Houses across the country. Most were constructed during or before the 20th Century and were architecturally typical of that era. Usually with colonnaded open verandahs with round tiled roofs, and overlooking splendid vistas, pleasing to the eye, these buildings assumed a unique character. Any structure not conforming to that basic architectural formula ran the risk of being termed a “guesthouse” – a different kettle of fish altogether!

Rest house cuisine also developed into an epicurean genre all its own. It was a delight not only to the tired traveller, but also to the gourmand, most of the recipes being based on locally available produce and unique in many ways. The popularity of rest houses continued into post independence days up to the time of the emergence of tourist hotels which commenced in the mid 1960s.

From the 1960s onwards Sri Lanka commenced investing in tourism development infrastructure, and a string of luxury hotels came up on the South Western coast from Negombo down to Tangalle, in the east coast, and soon into tea country and other picturesque sites in the hinterland. The north of the country beyond Anuradhapura however was by and large neglected by the tourism industry excepting the north east sector around Trincomalee. The lacuna was mainly because of uncertainty and risk associated with the then prevalent civil war lasting around 30 years.

The Jaffna Peninsula and its people remained in relative isolation during the period of the civil war. There was very little in the form of accommodation for the traveller to that part of the country, which was a veritable ‘no go zone’ for three decades. Consequently, the hoary old institution known as the rest house, assumed a certain significance to the tired traveller seeking a place of rest, albeit there being few who dared take the risk to travel into the heart of the war zone!

It was during the British colonial days that popularity of rest houses in Sri Lanka peaked. This was around the 1930s. There were then 162 rest houses in the country of which there were nine within the Jaffna Peninsula. By 1963 the total number declined to 108 with the number in the Jaffna Peninsula dropping to six.

At the turn of the 20th Century, some of the oldest rest houses in Ceylon were in the peninsula where the locals called them madams or choultrys, somewhat equivalent to the tanayama or ambalama in the south of the island.

The rest houses in the Jaffna peninsula received the attention of writers like James Cordiner (1807), Capt Thomas Aldersey Jones of the 19th Regiment (1805) and later, the reputed antiquarian John Penry Lewis, whose observations in an article for the Times of Ceylon Annual 1913, provide interesting insights into the life of the local traveller of those times. A review of some of the early descriptions of rest houses in the peninsula will help shed some light into the prevalent lifestyle and customs in the North, and bring back to mind an era gone forever!

At the beginning of the 20 th Century the rest houses in the peninsula were those in Jaffna, Elephant Pass, Kayts, Point Pedro, Pallai, Pass Beshuter, and Kankesanturai. The civil war which engulfed the North of the country saw the destruction of the Elephant Pass, Chavakachcheri, and Jaffna rest houses. I am happy to record that my stay in the Jaffna and Kankesanturai rest houses in 1977 brings back nostalgic memories of the City of Jaffna.

The rest houses in Pallai, Pass Beshuter, and Chundikulam, ceased to function many years previously, due to lack of patronage, and thus became economically unviable. Those remaining today would most likely be operating below optimum level, except perhaps Kankesanturai, which has been revamped and functions as a tourist facility at the northern most point of the island.

Captain Thomas Aldersay Jones of the 19th Regiment, wrote in his unpublished diary of December 25, 1805, said that there were rest houses or choultries at Chavakachcheri, Kilali, and “Bescooter”. It seems apparent therefore that the others in the peninsula were built later. “Pas Beschuter: or “Beshuter” as it was sometimes called, was 15 miles east of of Kilali, away from the coast on the road to Mulaitivu via Chundikulam, which was at the extreme South East end of the peninsula.

Captain Jones noted in his diary that the choultry at Kilali was the most comfortable on this road and observed :”Rest house good, people civil, and can get everything”.

James Cordiner observed in his work published in 1807, “at Kilali choultry or rest house, the landlord is an invalided sergeant who formerly served the Dutch Government, and is now settled there in charge of the Post Office. Both he and his wife are born of Ceylonese mothers”. Jones noted that “Chavacherry” or Chavakachcheri “adjoined the ruins of a large house which in Portuguese times was the residence of the parish priest”. J.P. Lewis noted 100 years later, that the then existing rest house was probably on the same site adjoining the Magistrate’ s bungalow which Lewis earlier occupied for five months “pestered by bats and depressed by the smoke of the cremation ground nearby”.

Captain jones in his diary referred to a large Moorish Church which, according to Lewis, was, in fact, the remnants of a Portuguese Church. The Chavakachcheri rest house has since been completely demolished, and only the land remained.

In the old Pas Beshuter Rest House visitor’s book, there was a verse by Graeme Read Mercer of the Ceylon Civil Service arising from a complaint by two travellers who had preceded him and which reflects on the isolation of rest houses and the problem of servicing its needs in far flung outposts. The verse reads thus: “

Messrs Buwker and Meek/Discover a leak

/On which a few pence expended

/Will save many pounds/

A few years hence/

When it will be as they will be mended/ ”

The rest house at Pas Beshuter which operated for over half a century, seem to have ended its usefulness by the end of the 19th century, when Lewis noted that the pillars which supported its roof was still seen standing in desolate rows amid the ruins of the old Dutch Fort. The rest house in Chundikulum which was still in use in

1805 when Captain Jones commented in his diary “Rest house bad, and could get nothing, the natives having gone on a visit and not returned”!

Lewis noted when he visited Chundikulum over a 100 years later, that there had been no visitor for the three preceding years! Little wonder that the rest house ceased to function not long afterwards.

The rest house in Point Pedro was more a madan or ambalama or resting place for travellers, built across the road with traffic passing under its arched roof and adjoins a Hindu temple which was built by the brahmins associated with the temple, with the approval of the District Road Committee.

It is unique in style, having an arched dome like roof similar to arched madams found in South India. The photograph below taken by Skeen and Co around 1900, shows the rest house in its original form. The building exists to this day, but without the unique arched roof, which has been replaced by a plain gabled roof of metal sheets, the original roof structure of great character, a possible victim to the ravages of war.

The Elephant Pass rest house was originally a small Dutch Fort built in the 18 th century and stood at the entrance to the Jaffna Peninsula from the south, at the end of the causeway connecting the peninsula to the mainland.

According to Sir Emerson Tennent (1859), the name originated from the annual visitations by wild elephants during July and August,t he reason when the palmyrah fruit ripens, attracting wild elephants from the mainland. When Captain Jones arrived there on September 19, 180, he found the rest house “fallen down”! Perhaps the rest house was in a different location. Jones had to stay the night at the “tappal man’s house”

The Elephant Pass rest house was a picturesque house with a heritage well worthy of preservation, but was unfortunately destroyed during the war. The photograph shown here is from W.A. Nelson -the Dutch Forts of Sri Lanka, 1984.

The Jaffna Rest House was located near the esplanade and when it was built in the late 19th century it stood out in splendour with park like grounds. In later years the building looked less impressive and also suffered severe damage during the war.

The Kayts rest house built in the 19th century and located 100 yards away from the jetty was a small two roomed building. Remains of the foundation of a building dating back to the Portuguese era were observed within the rest house compound a century ago. A tombstone dated February 23, 1828 in memory of John the infant son of Rob Atherton, the sitting Magistrate and Fiscal of Delft, stood on the grounds of the rest house. It is not known whether the tombstone, or the rest house itself exists today.

The rest house keeper during the early 20th century was a man by the name Pillai who with his brother were well known for the sumptuous breakfasts they served their guests. The Pillai brothers were known by their nicknames Bob Pillai and Ned Pillai and were an institution in Kayts, much like Tamby the well known rest house keeper of the Trincomalee rest house of that era.

The Kankesanturai rest house is an old building constructed in the 19 Century to which a 20th century addition was made. It is located in a picturesque point facing the Indian Ocean. It was constructed during the tenure of office of District Engineer Armstrong, a man responsible for many public works in the peninsula.

During the war it was run as a tourism facility by the defence department. With the end of the war several hotel projects commenced in the peninsula, and it is hoped that the income generated by tourism will be a stimulus to the economy of the Jaffna peninsula.



Continue Reading
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Features

Echo fades? NPP’s waning momentum in LG polls

Published

on

The 2025 local government elections in Sri Lanka were expected to cement the National People’s Power (NPP) as the country’s emergent political force. However, the results delivered a more complex picture. Despite months of rising public frustration with traditional parties, the NPP saw a surprising loss of momentum—shedding over 2.3 million votes compared to their strong showing in the 2024 elections. This electoral drop has puzzled analysts and frustrated supporters, raising critical questions about political consistency, campaign strategy, and the evolving expectations of Sri Lanka’s voters.

Since 2019, the NPP, led by Anura Kumara Dissanayake, had rapidly ascended in popularity, drawing support from youth, professionals, and disillusioned citizens across ethnic and social lines. Its messaging of clean governance, economic equity, and systemic reform resonated strongly in the wake of multiple national crises—from the 2019 Easter attacks to the crippling financial collapse of 2022.

In the aftermath of President Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s resignation and widespread protests that rocked the island in 2022, the NPP emerged as a political vessel for anti-establishment sentiment. Many expected the 2025 local government elections to be a stepping-stone to national dominance. (See table 1: Source: https://election.newsfirst.lk/#/parties)

The Vote Drop Explained

*  The loss of 2.3 million votes has several potential explanations:

Turnout Fatigue: Voter turnout was markedly lower than in the presidential elections, particularly in urban centres and among younger demographics—traditionally NPP strongholds.

* Fragmented Opposition: Other opposition parties, including the SJB and remnants of SLFP factions, may have regained localised influence, especially in rural electorates.

* Unrealised Expectations: Some voters, who rallied behind the NPP in national-level discourse, may have doubted its practical ability to manage local governance.

* Campaign Gaps: Compared to the presidential elections, the local campaign lacked grassroots mobilisation and visibility in several key districts.

* Implications for Presidential Race

While the NPP remains a key contender for the next presidential election, the 2025 local poll results suggest it cannot rely solely on public dissatisfaction to drive voter loyalty. Its ability to build consistent, multi-layered support—across local, provincial, and national levels—may determine its viability as a governing force.

The results of the 2025 local government elections are neither a death knell nor a coronation for the NPP. Rather, they serve as a sobering checkpoint in the party’s political journey. The challenge now is to reconnect with its disillusioned base, sharpen its policy delivery at the grassroots, and reassert itself, not just as a movement—but as a government-in-waiting.

Sri Lanka’s 2025 local government elections mark a significant turning point in the nation’s political trajectory. After decades of domination by traditional parties, such as the United National Party (UNP), the Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP), and their offshoots, a new political force—the National People’s Power (NPP)—has emerged as a credible challenger. Fuelled by public frustration over economic mismanagement, corruption, and a deepening trust deficit in governance, the NPP’s ascent signals not merely a change in voter preference but a seismic shift in political culture.

This article analyzes the key patterns emerging from the 2025 local government polls, drawing comparisons with historical voting trends from 1982 to 2024. It explores the urban-rural divide, the shifting role of ethnic minority parties, and the unprecedented surge in support for the NPP. Through this lens, we assess the long-term implications for Sri Lanka’s democratic institutions, party system, and policy direction.

Since gaining independence in 1948, Sri Lanka’s political landscape has been predominantly shaped by two major parties: the United National Party (UNP) and the Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP). These parties alternated in power for decades, cultivating strong patronage networks and deep-rooted voter bases. While the UNP positioned itself as centre-right and pro-business, the SLFP leaned toward centre-left policies and a populist approach. Their dominance, however, was periodically challenged by splinter groups and coalitions, such as the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP), Tamil political parties, and more recently, the Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna (SLPP), founded by the Rajapaksa family.

The 1970s and 1980s were marked by political instability, including the JVP insurrections, ethnic tensions, and the outbreak of a protracted civil war in 1983. These events shifted the focus of governance toward national security and centralised power. The civil war’s end in 2009 created new political opportunities, especially for the Rajapaksas, whose military victory brought them immense popularity. The SLPP, a breakaway from the SLFP, capitalised on this sentiment to dominate national politics by 2019.

However, the veneer of stability began to crack following the Easter Sunday attacks in 2019, the economic collapse of 2022, and a series of mass protests that culminated in the resignation of President Gotabaya Rajapaksa. These events exposed the fragility of state institutions, widespread corruption, and policy incoherence. The public’s growing disillusionment with mainstream parties created fertile ground for alternative political movements.

The National People’s Power (NPP), an alliance led by the formerly radical JVP and allied civil society actors, emerged as a legitimate alternative. With a platform centred on good governance, anti-corruption, youth empowerment, and economic justice, the NPP resonated particularly with urban voters, the educated middle class, and politically disenchanted youth. Their performance in the 2025 local government elections reflects this broader national mood and demands a serious examination of whether Sri Lanka is entering a post-partisan or realigned political era.

Over the past four decades, Sri Lanka’s political stage has experienced seismic shifts — from the firm grip of traditional powerhouses, like the United National Party (UNP) and the Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP), to a recent wave of public support for reformist newcomers like the National People’s Power (NPP).

From Dominance to Decline: UNP and SLFP’s Waning Appeal

In the early 1980s, the UNP was riding high, securing over half the vote in national elections. But as the years progressed, public dissatisfaction began to creep in. By 1994, after over a decade of UNP-led rule, marked by civil unrest and economic concerns, voters decisively turned to the SLFP, handing it a landslide victory with over 62% of the vote. This marked the beginning of a back-and-forth tug-of-war between the two traditional giants.

From 2005 to 2015, elections were closely fought. The SLFP, supported by a strong rural base and popular policies, held a slight edge. However, in 2015, a wave of frustration over governance saw the UNP bounce back. The contest remained tight until the SLFP once again gained ground in 2019.

2024: A System in Flux

By 2024, the grip of both the UNP and SLFP had visibly weakened. In one round of results, the SLFP led with 42.3% while the UNP lagged behind at 32.75%. In another, the gap widened even further, with the SLFP reaching nearly 56% of the vote. These figures, however, painted only part of the picture. Beneath the surface, a deeper shift was brewing — the emergence of a third force.

Urban-Rural Divide Becomes Clearer

The NPP made sweeping gains in urban areas like Colombo, Gampaha, Kalutara, and Kandy. Educated young voters, professionals, and middle-class families — hit hard by job losses and rising living costs — turned to the NPP’s promise of clean governance and reform.

In contrast, rural regions, particularly in the South and North Central areas, still leaned toward the SLPP and SJB (Samagi Jana Balawegaya), albeit with thinner margins than in previous years. Old loyalties and patronage networks seemed to persist, though weakening steadily.

Ethnic Politics and Emerging National Themes

Tamil political parties, particularly the Illankai Tamil Arasu Kachchi (ITAK), held their ground in the Northern and Eastern Provinces, winning most local seats in places like Jaffna and Batticaloa. However, voter turnout was low, signalling deep political disillusionment.

Interestingly, the NPP also made modest inroads in these regions, suggesting its message is resonating across ethnic lines, particularly among younger and more urbanised voters.

Economic Anger Fuels Political Upheaval

The steep decline of the SLPP has been linked directly to the economic crisis, where food, fuel, and medicine shortages led to the 2022–2023 protests known as Aragalaya. The ruling party’s failure to stabilise the economy appears to have cost them dearly, aligning with global trends where poor governance results in electoral punishment.

While the SJB made some gains, especially in southern regions, it couldn’t fully capitalise on voter frustration. Analysts suggest this may be due to its perceived links to the old UNP, vague policy directions, and lack of a bold vision.

End of Bipolar Politics?

The rise of the NPP signals the beginning of a new political era. For decades, Sri Lankan politics was defined by a two-party rivalry — UNP vs. SLFP, and later SLPP vs. SJB. Now, the landscape is tripolar, and possibly moving toward a multiparty democracy where ideas and reform matter more than family legacies and party loyalty.

Young, first-time voters and professionals are looking for issue-based politics: anti-corruption, economic stability, and public accountability. The NPP seems to be answering that call — for now.

A New Chapter Begins

In short, Sri Lanka is witnessing a political transformation. The old guard is losing ground. A new generation of voters is demanding answers, not slogans. And if the 2025 local elections are anything to go by, the future may well belong to those who listen, adapt, and lead with integrity.

(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT , Malabe. He is also the author of the “Doing Social Research and Publishing Results”, a Springer publication (Singapore), and “Samaja Gaveshakaya (in Sinhala). The views and opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the institution he works for. He can be contacted at saliya.a@slit.lk and www.researcher.com)

Continue Reading

Features

A plural society requires plural governance

Published

on

The local government elections that took place last week saw a consolidation of the democratic system in the country.  The government followed the rules of elections to a greater extent than its recent predecessors some of whom continue to be active on the political stage.  Particularly noteworthy was the absence of the large-scale abuse of state resources, both media and financial, which had become normalised under successive governments in the past four decades.  Reports by independent election monitoring organisations made mention of this improvement in the country’s democratic culture.

In a world where democracy is under siege even in long-established democracies, Sri Lanka’s improvement in electoral integrity is cause for optimism. It also offers a reminder that democracy is always a work in progress, ever vulnerable to erosion and needs to be constantly fought for. The strengthening of faith in democracy as a result of these elections is encouraging.  The satisfaction expressed by the political parties that contested the elections is a sign that democracy in Sri Lanka is strong.  Most of them saw some improvement in their positions from which they took reassurance about their respective futures.

The local government elections also confirmed that the NPP and its core comprising the JVP are no longer at the fringes of the polity.  The NPP has established itself as a mainstream party with an all-island presence, and remarkably so to a greater extent than any other political party.  This was seen at the general elections, where the NPP won a majority of seats in 21 of the country’s 22 electoral districts. This was a feat no other political party has ever done. This is also a success that is challenging to replicate. At the present local government elections, the NPP was successful in retaining its all-island presence although not to the same degree.

Consolidating Support

Much attention has been given to the relative decline in the ruling party’s vote share from the 61 percent it secured in December’s general election to 43 percent in the local elections. This slippage has been interpreted by some as a sign of waning popularity. However, such a reading overlooks the broader trajectory of political change. Just three years ago, the NPP and its allied parties polled less than five percent nationally. That they now command over 40 percent of the vote represents a profound transformation in voter preferences and political culture. What is even more significant is the stability of this support base, which now surpasses that of any rival. The votes obtained by the NPP at these elections were double those of its nearest rival.

The electoral outcomes in the north and east, which were largely won by parties representing the Tamil and Muslim communities, is a warning signal that ethnic conflict lurks beneath the surface. The success of the minority parties signals the different needs and aspirations of the ethnic and religious minority electorates, and the need for the government to engage more fully with them.  Apart from the problems of poverty, lack of development, inadequate access to economic resources and antipathy to excessive corruption that people of the north and east share in common with those in other parts of the country, they also have special problems that other sections of the population do not have. These would include problems of military takeover of their lands, missing persons and persons incarcerated for long periods either without trial or convictions under the draconian Prevention of Terrorism Act (which permits confessions made to security forces to be made admissible for purposes of conviction) and the long time quest for self-rule in the areas of their predominance

The government’s failure to address these longstanding issues with urgency appears to have caused disaffection in electorate in the north and east. While structural change is necessarily complex and slow, delays can be misinterpreted as disinterest or disregard, especially by minorities already accustomed to marginalisation. The lack of visible progress on issues central to minority communities fosters a sense of exclusion and deepens political divides. Even so, it is worth noting that the NPP’s vote in the north and east was not insignificant. It came despite the NPP not tailoring its message to ethnic grievances. The NPP has presented a vision of national reform grounded in shared values of justice, accountability, development, and equality.

Translating electoral gains into meaningful governance will require more than slogans. The failure to swiftly address matters deemed to be important by the people of those areas appears to have cost the NPP votes amongst the ethnic and religious minorities, but even here it is necessary to keep matters in perspective.  The NPP came first in terms of seats won in two of the seven electoral districts of the north and east.  They came second in five others. The fact that the NPP continued to win significant support indicates that its approach of equity in development and equal rights for all has resonance. This was despite the Tamil and Muslim parties making appeals to the electorate on nationalist or ethnic grounds.

Slow Change

Whether in the north and east or outside it, the government is perceived to be slow in delivering on its promises.  In the context of the promise of system change, it can be appreciated that such a change will be resisted tooth and nail by those with vested interests in the continuation of the old system.  System change will invariably be resisted at multiple levels.  The problem is that the slow pace of change may be seen by ethnic and religious minorities as being due to the disregard of their interests.  However, the system change is coming slow not only in the north and east, but also in the entire country.

At the general election in December last year, the NPP won an unprecedented number of parliamentary seats in both the country as well as in the north and east.  But it has still to make use of its 2/3 majority to make the changes that its super majority permits it to do.  With control of 267 out of 339 local councils, but without outright majorities in most, it must now engage in coalition-building and consensus-seeking if it wishes to govern at the local level. This will be a challenge for a party whose identity has long been built on principled opposition to elite patronage, corruption and abuse of power rather than to governance. General Secretary of the JVP, Tilvin Silva, has signaled a reluctance to form alliances with discredited parties but has expressed openness to working with independent candidates who share the party’s values. This position can and should be extended, especially in the north and east, to include political formations that represent minority communities and have remained outside the tainted mainstream.

In a plural and multi-ethnic society like Sri Lanka, democratic legitimacy and effective governance requires coalition-building. By engaging with locally legitimate minority parties, especially in the north and east, the NPP can engage in principled governance without compromising its core values. This needs to be extended to the local government authorities in the rest of the country as well. As the 19th century English political philosopher John Stuart Mill observed, “The worth of a state in the long run is the worth of the individuals composing it,” and in plural societies, that worth can only be realised through inclusive decision-making.

by Jehan Perera

Continue Reading

Features

Commercialising research in Sri Lanka – not really the healthiest thing for research

Published

on

Image credit University of Sydney

In the early 2000s, a colleague, returning to Sri Lanka after a decade in a research-heavy first world university, complained to me that ‘there is no research culture in Sri Lanka’. But what exactly does having a ‘research culture’ mean? Is a lot of funding enough? What else has stopped us from working towards a productive and meaningful research culture? A concerted effort has been made to improve the research culture of state universities, though there are debates about how healthy such practices are (there is not much consideration of the same in private ‘universities’ in Sri Lanka but that is a discussion for another time). So, in the 25 years since my colleague bemoaned our situation, what has been happening?

What is a ‘research culture’?

A good research culture would be one where we – academics and students – have the resources to engage productively in research. This would mean infrastructure, training, wholesome mentoring, and that abstract thing called headspace. In a previous Kuppi column, I explained at length some of the issues we face as researchers in Sri Lankan universities, including outdated administrative regulations, poor financial resources, and such aspects. My perspective is from the social sciences, and might be different to other disciplines. Still, I feel that there are at least a few major problems that we all face.

Number one: Money is important.

Take the example American universities. Harvard University, according to Harvard Magazine, “received $686.5 million in federally sponsored research grants” for the fiscal year of 2024 but suddenly find themselves in a bind because of such funds being held back. Research funds in these universities typically goes towards building and maintenance of research labs and institutions, costs of equipment, material and other resources and stipends for graduate and other research assistants, conferences, etc. Without such an infusion of money towards research, the USA would not have been able to attracts (and keeps) the talent and brains of other countries. Without a large amount of money dedicated for research, Sri Lankan state universities, too, will not have the research culture it yearns for. Given the country’s austere economic situation, in the last several years, research funds have come mainly from self-generated funds and treasury funds. Yet, even when research funds are available (they are usually inadequate), we still have some additional problems.

Number two: Unending spools of red tape

In Sri Lankan universities red tape is endless. An MoU with a foreign research institution takes at least a year. Financial regulations surrounding the award and spending of research grants is frustrating.

Here’s a personal anecdote. In 2018, I applied for a small research grant from my university. Several months later, I was told I had been awarded it. It comes to me in installments of not more than Rs 100,000. To receive this installment, I must submit a voucher and wait a few weeks until it passes through various offices and gains various approvals. For mysterious financial reasons, asking for reimbursements is discouraged. Obviously then, if I were working on a time-sensitive study or if I needed a larger amount of money for equipment or research material, I would not be able to use this grant. MY research assistants, transcribers, etc., must be willing to wait for their payments until I receive this advance. In 2022, when I received a second advance, the red tape was even tighter. I was asked to spend the funds and settle accounts – within three weeks. ‘Should I ask my research assistants to do the work and wait a few weeks or months for payment? Or should I ask them not to do work until I get the advance and then finish it within three weeks so I can settle this advance?’ I asked in frustration.

Colleagues, who regularly use university grants, frustratedly go along with it; others may opt to work with organisations outside the university. At a university meeting, a few years ago, set up specifically to discuss how young researchers could be encouraged to do research, a group of senior researchers ended the meeting with a list of administrative and financial problems that need to be resolved if we want to foster ‘a research culture’. These are still unresolved. Here is where academic unions can intervene, though they seem to be more focused on salaries, permits and school quotas. If research is part of an academic’s role and responsibility, a research-friendly academic environment is not a privilege, but a labour issue and also impinges on academic freedom to generate new knowledge.

Number three: Instrumentalist research – a global epidemic

The quality of research is a growing concern, in Sri Lanka and globally. The competitiveness of the global research environment has produced seriously problematic phenomena, such as siphoning funding to ‘trendy’ topics, the predatory publications, predatory conferences, journal paper mills, publications with fake data, etc. Plagiarism, ghost writing and the unethical use of AI products are additional contemporary problems. In Sri Lanka, too, we can observe researchers publishing very fast – doing short studies, trying to publish quickly by sending articles to predatory journals, sending the same article to multiple journals at the same time, etc. Universities want more conferences rather than better conferences. Many universities in Sri Lanka have mandated that their doctoral candidates must publish journal articles before their thesis submission. As a consequence, novice researchers frequently fall prey to predatory journals. Universities have also encouraged faculties or departments to establish journals, which frequently have sub-par peer review.

Alongside this are short-sighted institutional changes. University Business Liankage cells, for instance, were established as part of the last World Bank loan cycle to universities. They are expected to help ‘commercialise’ research and focuses on research that can produce patents, and things that can be sold. Such narrow vision means that the broad swathe of research that is undertaken in universities are unseen and ignored, especially in the humanities and social sciences. A much larger vision could have undertaken the promotion of research rather than commercialisation of it, which can then extend to other types of research.

This brings us to the issue of what types of research is seen as ‘relevant’ or ‘useful’. This is a question that has significant repercussions. In one sense, research is an elitist endeavour. We assume that the public should trust us that public funds assigned for research will be spent on worth-while projects. Yet, not all research has an outcome that shows its worth or timeliness in the short term. Some research may not be understood other than by specialists. Therefore, funds, or time spent on some research projects, are not valued, and might seem a waste, or a privilege, until and unless a need for that knowledge suddenly arises.

A short example suffices. Since the 1970s, research on the structures of Sinhala and Sri Lankan Tamil languages (sound patterns, sentence structures of the spoken versions, etc.) have been nearly at a standstill. The interest in these topics are less, and expertise in these areas were not prioritised in the last 30 years. After all, it is not an area that can produce lucrative patents or obvious contributions to the nation’s development. But with digital technology and AI upon us, the need for systematic knowledge of these languages is sorely evident – digital technologies must be able to work in local languages to become useful to whole populations. Without a knowledge of the structures and sounds of local languages – especially the spoken varieties – people who cannot use English cannot use those devices and platforms. While providing impetus to research such structures, this need also validates utilitarian research.

This then is the problem with espousing instrumental ideologies of research. World Bank policies encourage a tying up between research and the country’s development goals. However, in a country like ours, where state policies are tied to election manifestos, the result is a set of research outputs that are tied to election cycles. If in 2019, the priority was national security, in 2025, it can be ‘Clean Sri Lanka’. Prioritising research linked to short-sighted visions of national development gains us little in the longer-term. At the same time, applying for competitive research grants internationally, which may have research agendas that are not nationally relevant, is problematic. These are issues of research ethics as well.

Concluding thoughts

In moving towards a ‘good research culture’, Sri Lankan state universities have fallen into the trap of adopting some of the problematic trends that have swept through the first world. Yet, since we are behind the times anyway, it is possible for us to see the damaging consequences of those issues, and to adopt the more fruitful processes. A slower, considerate approach to research priorities would be useful for Sri Lanka at this point. It is also a time for collective action to build a better research environment, looking at new relationships and collaborations, and mentoring in caring ways.

(Dr. Kaushalya Perera teaches at the Department of English, University of Colombo)

Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.

By Kaushalya Perera

Continue Reading

Trending