Features
Politics and Administrators in the 20th Century
The Kandy Man – An Autobiography, Volume one (1939-1977),
By Sarath Amunugam. Vijitha Yapa Publications (2020).548 pages
Reviewed by Leelananda De Silva
Introduction
In two years, Sri Lanka should celebrate 75 years since independence. During this period, there have been dramatic social, cultural and economic changes. The British inheritance is fading fast, whether it be in Government and administration, politics and constitution making, in education and in foreign relations. It is time for the university academics or some others to consider writing the history of Sri Lanka these last 75 years and capture the momentous changes that have occurred. Whether that history will be written in Sinhalese, Tamil or English is yet to be seen. Sarath Amunugama’s volume is an important building block in constructing that history.
Amunugama is one of the outstanding personalities of Sri Lanka in our generation. An academic, top administrator and leading politician, he has played an important role in Sri Lankan public life. He has lived in and served the country in an era of rapid change. Amunugama is one of the very few members of the Ceylon Civil Service to have moved into high level politics after 1948. The others were C. Suntheralingam, C. Sittampalam, Walwin. A. de Silva, Ronnie de Mel and Nissanka Wijeyaratne. The volume under review is only the first part of a three-volume autobiography. Broadly, the current volume addresses three broad areas – his education at Trinity College, Kandy in the 1940s and at the University of Ceylon at Peradeniya in the 1950s; as a high level district administrator in the 1960s; and at the centre of Government as Director of Information in the 1970s. He has straddled the demarcations between administration and politics with ease and he has worked with politicians of all hues comfortably.
Trinity College, Kandy
The first chapter of this volume deals with his school days at Trinity College, Kandy. He offers us a wide ranging picture of Trinity and also of Kandy of that time. He describes College academic life, sports and cadeting and student debates with other schools, especially the girls’ schools in Kandy. Regrettably, there is no reference to the subjects they debated about. Amunugama has great admiration for some of his teachers. Hillary Abeyaratne was one of his heroes, and others were R.R. Breckenridge, Willy Hensman and Gordon Burrows. He greatly admired his Principal, Norman Walter, probably one of the last school principals of British origin in Sri Lanka. Walter wrote to the Vice Chancellor of the University requesting that Amunugama be admitted to the University although he was underage, a request that could not be granted.
Our generation, whether it be from schools in Colombo or Galle, knew of Trinity largely because of a famous Principal, A.G. Fraser and a British teacher and preacher, Rev. W.S. Senior, who wrote some delightful, haunting poetry about Kandy. Amunugama’s story of Trinity could have been better if he dealt with the history of Trinity and the influence the College had on the Kandyan middle and upper classes. Trinity was a great inheritance from British days.
The University at Peradeniya
In the 1950s, the University at Peradeniya (part of the University of Ceylon) was unique in the history of universities in Sri Lanka. It had only about a thousand students, and the faculties were almost entirely of the Arts, Humanities and Social Sciences. There was no Physical Science, Engineering or Medicine. This lasted for only a decade. The undergraduates lived in halls of residence not far from each other. All this tended to make the university a friendly and even homely place, with friendships across disciplines and residencies.
Amunugama seems to have enjoyed the university in his four years there and was fully engaged in its academic, political and cultural life. He was active in various groups, especially with E.R. Sarachchandra and Siri Gunasinghe. This was the time of Maname, a Sarachchandra play which revolutionized Sri Lankan drama and with which Amunugama was closely associated. He offers us an excellent picture of the cultural activities of the university at that time. This was also a time when undergraduates studied in the English medium and yet Sinhala culture was flourishing.
He offers us a fascinating picture of the Sociology department at the university in its early days. S.J. Thambiah and Gananath Obeysekara were students and lecturers. Later on, they were to become world class academics, teaching at Princeton and Harvard in the U.S.A. Laksiri Jayasuriya and Ralph Pieris were other leading academics. There are engaging pen portraits of these academics. Amunugama appears to be an admirer of Ralph Pieris, who was his teacher. He tells us the story of Jennings’s hesitation in setting up departments of Sinhala culture and sociology as these subjects were strange to the Oxbridge traditions from which Jennings had emerged. He also tells us of the differences that Martin Wickramasinghe had with Jennings’ approach to Sinhala cultural studies and also of the pioneering role played by Professor Ratnasuriya who died young. The volume also offers us some insight into university politics but there is no space to get into detail here. However it must be noted that Amunugama was President of the Union Society at Peradeniya during his time there. Overall, the volume offers an engaging picture of the University at Peradeniya of the 1950s.
District Administration
Since Amunugama entered the Ceylon Civil Service in 1963 (the CCS was abolished soon after), the next seven years of his career was in district administration. He served as AGA and Additional GA in Galle, Ratnapura and Kandy districts. Amunugama’s academic background was ideal to deal with the range of issues that he had to face in the districts. His 200-page story of his engagement in district administration reminds me of Leonard Woolf’s volume “Growing 1904 – 1911” (the second volume of his five volume autobiography, published in the 1960s), which is about his seven years in Ceylon and when he was engaged in district administration. Unlike in imperial days, the district administrator in the 1960s had to deal with politicians and a democratic government. They were no longer the rulers like Leonard Woolf.
The young Civil Servant’s interests were so expansive that he was in a position to fruitfully interact in the area of agriculture and lands and irrigation, culture, the arts and the temples and with the politics of these districts. In the Galle district, where he served for nearly three years, he established a good relationship with the legendary W. Dahanayake, MP for Galle and his Minister of Home Affairs in later years. Amunugama was immersed in the cultural life of the Galle district and he had a friendly relationship with the DROs of the area. When in Galle, he became very familiar with the backgrounds of two of the great cultural figures of our time – Martin Wickramasinghe and Gunadasa Amarasekara, visiting many of the villages and the scenes depicted in their novels.
In the Kandy district, Amunugama was again very involved in the political and cultural life of the district. He initiated the concept of mobile kacheries which enabled the villagers, instead of coming to Kandy, to have their problems addressed near their own villages. He also initiated a more effective approach to increase the productive capacity of farmers. Local village level officials who should assist the farmers were not living in the villages they were officially attached to, but were commuting to their own homes. Amunugama started the practice of giving these field officers lands of their own, so that they will live with the farmers and work with them. He has many stories to relate about his relationships with the politicians of the day like Anuruddha Ratwatte in Kandy. In the Ratnapura district, he was deeply engaged in land development in the Udawalawe and Chandrika weva colonization schemes.
Overall, the chapters entitled “The Ceylon Civil Service” and “Government Agent”, are in effect addressing issues in district administration. It’s a matter of some curiosity why he titled these two chapters in this way instead of making them chapters on district administration. By the time he was AGA and Additional GA and serving in the districts, the CCS had been abolished. The CCS lasted only the first year of his public service career. Since that time, he and other ex-CCS officers were members of the Ceylon Administrative Service (CAS).
I understand the hesitations of some of the ex-CCS personnel to use the new CAS nomenclature. However, difficult it is for them, to call themselves CCS after its abolition in 1963, is like Grama Sevakas calling themselves village headmen and DROs calling themselves Mudliyars. These were denominations of an imperial era. Amunugama tells us that when their batch joined the CCS, on their first day, the then Secretary to the Treasury and Head of the CCS, Shirley Amarasinghe addressed them on how to behave. Interestingly, within one year of that day, Shirley Amarasinghe (who was only 50 years old at the time) himself left the CCS and joined the Ceylon Overseas Service to go as High Commissioner to India.
Director of Information
Amunugama moved into the centre of Government when he was appointed Director of Information in 1968 when Dudley Senanayake was Prime Minister. He continued his tenure under Mrs. Sirima Bandaranaike when she became Prime Minister in 1970. This is an assignment which suited Amunugama’s academic, administrative and political skills. His story of these years is compulsive reading and there are entertaining stories of politics at the highest level. At a young age, he was able to interact with the top politicians of his day. During this period, he also engaged in what looks to be his pastime – international travel – which he has done extensively over the years. In fact, the volume has many paragraphs and stories of his foreign travels including a long spell in Canada reading for a postgraduate degree.
As Director of Information, he was privy to much of the politics of his time. There are fascinating stories of the tensions between the LSSP and the SLFP when they were in coalition in the 1970s. There are engaging portraits of R. Premadasa when he was Minister of Local Government. Who could have known that Premadasa, when he was Deputy Minister of Local Government, had a very high regard for his Minister M. Tiruchelvam at the time when the UNP had formed a coalition with the Federal Party.
The writer relates the story of how the State Film Corporation was shifted from his ministry to the Ministry of Planning and Economic Affairs, where I had to handle its affairs. There are many other vignettes of his time as Director of Information of top politicians like Dudley Senanayake, Mrs. Bandaranaike, N.M. Perera and many others.
Conclusion
To conclude my review, let me refer to the long Preface of this book which addresses questions of writing biographies and autobiographies. Many biographies in Sri Lanka of leading politicians are largely hagiographies, praising them no end. This was the pattern of autobiographical writing too. In the early 1920s, there was a dramatic change in the art of biographical writing. Lytton Strachey, a member of the Bloomsbury group (a close friend of Leonard and Virginia Woolf) wrote his “Eminent Victorians” which changed the art of biography. Of his chosen few biographical topics, which included Queen Victoria and Florence Nightingale, he wrote about these leading icons of that generation, warts and all, bringing them down a peg or two.
This introduced a new form of biography, which was more investigative, critical and more true to the lives of their subjects. Autobiographies can never be swallowed whole. To paraphrase Robert Burns, the great Scottish poet, no power has given us the gift “to see ourselves as others see us.” That is the inherent weakness of autobiography. Amunugama’s first volume of a three volume autobiography is an outstanding work in its field, and is a great addition to our knowledge of our contemporary times. It was a pleasure to read.
Features
Ethnic-related problems need solutions now
In the space of 15 months, President Anura Kumara Dissanayake has visited the North of the country more than any other president or prime minister. These were not flying visits either. The president most recent visit to Jaffna last week was on the occasion of Thai Pongal to celebrate the harvest and the dawning of a new season. During the two days he spent in Jaffna, the president launched the national housing project, announced plans to renovate Palaly Airport, to expedite operations at the Kankesanthurai Port, and pledged once again that racism would have no place in the country.
There is no doubt that the president’s consistent presence in the north has had a reassuring effect. His public rejection of racism and his willingness to engage openly with ethnic and religious minorities have helped secure his acceptance as a national leader rather than a communal one. In the fifteen months since he won the presidential election, there have been no inter community clashes of any significance. In a country with a long history of communal tension, this relative calm is not accidental. It reflects a conscious political choice to lower the racial temperature rather than inflame it.
But preventing new problems is only part of the task of governing. While the government under President Dissanayake has taken responsibility for ensuring that anti-minority actions are not permitted on its watch, it has yet to take comparable responsibility for resolving long standing ethnic and political problems inherited from previous governments. These problems may appear manageable because they have existed for years, even decades. Yet their persistence does not make them innocuous. Beneath the surface, they continue to weaken trust in the state and erode confidence in its ability to deliver justice.
Core Principle
A core principle of governance is responsibility for outcomes, not just intentions. Governments do not begin with a clean slate. Governments do not get to choose only the problems they like. They inherit the state in full, with all its unresolved disputes, injustices and problemmatic legacies. To argue that these are someone else’s past mistakes is politically convenient but institutionally dangerous. Unresolved problems have a habit of resurfacing at the most inconvenient moments, often when a government is trying to push through reforms or stabilise the economy.
This reality was underlined in Geneva last week when concerns were raised once again about allegations of sexual abuse that occurred during the war, affecting both men and women who were taken into government custody. Any sense that this issue had faded from international attention was dispelled by the release of a report by the Office of the Human Rights High Commissioner titled “Sri Lanka: Report on conflict related sexual violence”, dated 13.01.26. Such reports do not emerge in a vacuum. They are shaped by the absence of credible domestic processes that investigate allegations, establish accountability and offer redress. They also shape international perceptions, influence diplomatic relationships and affect access to cooperation and support.
Other unresolved problems from the past continue to fester. These include the continued detention of Tamil prisoners under the Prevention of Terrorism Act, in some cases for many years without conclusion, the failure to return civilian owned land taken over by the military during the war, and the fate of thousands of missing persons whose families still seek answers. These are not marginal issues even when they are not at the centre stage. They affect real lives and entire communities. Their cumulative effect is corrosive, undermining efforts to restore normalcy and rebuild confidence in public institutions.
Equal Rights
Another area where delay will prove costly is the resettlement of Malaiyaha Tamil communities affected by the recent cyclone in the central hills, which was the worst affected region in the country. Even as President Dissanayake celebrated Thai Pongal in Jaffna to the appreciation of the people there, Malaiyaha Tamils engaged in peaceful campaigns to bring attention to their unresolved problems. In Colombo at the Liberty Roundabout, a number of them gathered to symbolically celebrate Thai Pongal while also bringing national attention to the issues of their community, in particular the problem of displacement after the cyclone.
The impact of the cyclone, and the likelihood of future ones under conditions of climate change, make it necessary for the displaced Malaiyaha Tamils to be found new places of residence. This is also an opportunity to tackle the problem of their landlessness in a comprehensive manner and make up for decades if not two centuries of inequity.
Planning for relocation and secure housing is good governance. This needs to be done soon. Climate related disasters do not respect political timetables. They punish delay and indecision. A government that prides itself on system change cannot respond to such challenges with temporary fixes.
The government appears concerned that finding new places for the Malaiyaha Tamil people to be resettled will lead to land being taken away from plantation companies which are said to be already struggling for survival. Due to the economic crisis the country has faced since it went bankrupt in 2022, the government has been deferential to the needs of company owners who are receiving most favoured treatment. As a result, the government is contemplating solutions such as high rise apartments and townhouse style housing to minimise the use of land.
Such solutions cannot substitute for a comprehensive strategy that includes consultations with the affected population and addresses their safety, livelihoods and community stability.
Lose Trust
Most of those who voted for the government at the last elections did so in the hope that it would bring about system change. They did not vote for the government to reinforce the same patterns that the old system represented. At its core, system change means rebalancing priorities. It means recognising that economic efficiency without social justice is a short-term gain with long-term costs. It means understanding that unresolved ethnic grievances, unaddressed wartime abuses and unequal responses to disaster will eventually undermine any development programme, no matter how well designed. Governance that postpones difficult decisions may buy time, but lose trust.
The coming year will therefore be decisive. The government must show that its commitment to non racism and inclusion extends beyond conflict prevention to conflict resolution. Addressing conflict related abuses, concluding long standing detentions, returning land, accounting for the missing and securing dignified resettlement for displaced communities are not distractions from the government programme. They are central to it. A government committed to genuine change must address the problems it inherited, or run the risk of being overwhelmed when those problems finally demand settlement.
by Jehan Perera
Features
Education. Reform. Disaster: A Critical Pedagogical Approach
This Kuppi writing aims to engage critically with the current discussion on the reform initiative “Transforming General Education in Sri Lanka 2025,” focusing on institutional and structural changes, including the integration of a digitally driven model alongside curriculum development, teacher training, and assessment reforms. By engaging with these proposed institutional and structural changes through the parameters of the division and recognition of labour, welfare and distribution systems, and lived ground realities, the article develops a critical perspective on the current reform discourse. By examining both the historical context and the present moment, the article argues that these institutional and structural changes attempt to align education with a neoliberal agenda aimed at enhancing the global corporate sector by producing “skilled” labour. This agenda is further evaluated through the pedagogical approach of socialist feminist scholarship. While the reforms aim to produce a ‘skilled workforce with financial literacy,’ this writing raises a critical question: whose labour will be exploited to achieve this goal? Why and What Reform to Education
In exploring why, the government of Sri Lanka seeks to introduce reforms to the current education system, the Prime Minister and Minister of Education, Higher Education, and Vocational Education, Dr. Harini Amarasuriya, revealed in a recent interview on 15 January 2026 on News First Sri Lanka that such reforms are a pressing necessity. According to the philosophical tradition of education reform, curriculum revision and prevailing learning and teaching structures are expected every eight years; however, Sri Lanka has not undertaken such revisions for the past ten years. The renewal of education is therefore necessary, as the current system produces structural issues, including inequality in access to quality education and the need to create labour suited to the modern world. Citing her words, the reforms aim to create “intelligent, civil-minded citizens” in order to build a country where people live in a civilised manner, work happily, uphold democratic principles, and live dignified lives.
Interpreting her narrative, I claim that the reform is intended to produce, shape, and develop a workforce for the neoliberal economy, now centralised around artificial intelligence and machine learning. My socialist feminist perspective explains this further, referring to Rosa Luxemburg’s reading on reforms for social transformation. As Luxemburg notes, although the final goal of reform is to transform the existing order into a better and more advanced system: The question remains: does this new order truly serve the working class? In the case of education, the reform aims to transform children into “intelligent, civil-minded citizens.” Yet, will the neoliberal economy they enter, and the advanced technological industries that shape it, truly provide them a better life, when these industries primarily seek surplus profit?
History suggests otherwise. Sri Lanka has repeatedly remained at the primary manufacturing level within neoliberal industries. The ready-made garment industry, part of the global corporate fashion system, provides evidence: it exploited both manufacturing labourers and brand representatives during structural economic changes in the 1980s. The same pattern now threatens to repeat in the artificial intelligence sector, raising concerns about who truly benefits from these education reforms
That historical material supports the claim that the primary manufacturing labour for the artificial intelligence industry will similarly come from these workers, who are now being trained as skilled employees who follow the system rather than question it. This context can be theorised through Luxemburg’s claim that critical thinking training becomes a privileged instrument, alienating the working class from such training, an approach that neoliberalism prefers to adopt in the global South.
Institutional and Structural Gaps
Though the government aims to address the institutional and structural gaps, I claim that these gaps will instead widen due to the deeply rooted system of uneven distribution in the country. While agreeing to establish smart classrooms, the critical query is the absence of a wide technological welfare system across the country. From electricity to smart equipment, resources remain inadequate, and the government lags behind in taking prompt initiative to meet these requirements.
This issue is not only about the unavailability of human and material infrastructure, but also about the absence of a plan to restore smart normalcy after natural disasters, particularly the resumption of smart network connections. Access to smart learning platforms, such as the internet, for schoolchildren is a high-risk factor that requires not only the monitoring of classroom teachers but also the involvement of the state. The state needs to be vigilant of abuses and disinformation present in the smart-learning space, an area in which Sri Lanka is still lagging. This concern is not only about the safety of children but also about the safety of women. For example, the recent case of abusive image production via Elon Musk’s AI chatbox, X, highlights the urgent need for a legal framework in Sri Lanka.
Considering its geographical location, Sri Lanka is highly vulnerable to natural disasters, the frequency in which they occur, increasing, owing to climate change. Ditwah is a recent example, where villages were buried alive by landslides, rivers overflowed, and families were displaced, losing homes that they had built over their lifetimes. The critical question, then, is: despite the government’s promise to integrate climate change into the curriculum, how can something still ‘in the air ‘with climate adaptation plans yet to be fully established, be effectively incorporated into schools?
Looking at the demographic map of the country, the expansion of the elderly population, the dependent category, requires attention. Considering the physical and psychological conditions of this group, fostering “intelligent, civic-minded” citizens necessitates understanding the elderly not as a charity case but as a human group deserving dignity. This reflects a critical reading of the reform content: what, indeed, is to be taught? This critical aspect further links with the next section of reflective of ground reality.
Reflective Narrative of Ground Reality
Despite the government asserting that the “teacher” is central to this reform, critical engagement requires examining how their labour is recognised. In Sri Lanka, teachers’ work has long been tied to social recognition, both utilised and exploited, Teachers receive low salaries while handling multiple roles: teaching, class management, sectional duties, and disciplinary responsibilities.
At present, a total teaching load is around 35 periods a week, with 28 periods spent in classroom teaching. The reform adds continuous assessments, portfolio work, projects, curriculum preparation, peer coordination, and e-knowledge, to the teacher’s responsibilities. These are undeclared forms of labour, meaning that the government assigns no economic value to them; yet teachers perform these tasks as part of a long-standing culture. When this culture is unpacked, the gendered nature of this undeclared labour becomes clear. It is gendered because the majority of schoolteachers are women, and their unpaid roles remain unrecognised. It is worth citing some empirical narratives to illustrate this point:
“When there was an extra-school event, like walks, prize-giving, or new openings, I stayed after school to design some dancing and practice with the students. I would never get paid for that extra time,” a female dance teacher in the Western Province shared.
I cite this single empirical account, and I am certain that many teachers have similar stories to share.
Where the curriculum is concerned, schoolteachers struggle to complete each lesson as planned due to time constraints and poor infrastructure. As explained by a teacher in the Central Province:
“It is difficult to have a reliable internet connection. Therefore, I use the hotspot on my phone so the children can access the learning material.”
Using their own phones and data for classroom activities is not part of a teacher’s official duties, but a culture has developed around the teaching role that makes such decisions necessary. Such activities related to labour risks further exploitation under the reform if the state remains silent in providing the necessary infrastructure.
Considering that women form the majority of the teaching profession, none of the reforms so far have taken women’s health issues seriously. These issues could be exacerbated by the extra stress arising from multiple job roles. Many female teachers particularly those with young children, those in peri- or post-menopause stages of their life, or those with conditions like endometriosis may experience aggravated health problems due to work-related stress intensified by the reform. This raises a critical question: what role does the state play in addressing these issues?
In Conclusion
The following suggestions are put forward:
First and foremost, the government should clearly declare the fundamental plan of the reform, highlighting why, what, when, and how it will be implemented. This plan should be grounded in the realities of the classroom, focusing on being child-centred and teacher-focused.
Technological welfare interventions are necessary, alongside a legal framework to ensure the safety and security of accessing the smart, information-centred world. Furthermore, teachers’ labour should be formally recognised and assigned economic value. Currently, under neoliberal logic, teachers are often left to navigate these challenges on their own, as if the choice is between survival or collapse.
Aruni Samarakoon teaches at the Department of Public Policy, University of Ruhuna
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
By Aruni Samarakoon
Features
Smartphones and lyrics stands…
Diliup Gabadamudalige is, indeed, a maestro where music is concerned, and this is what he had to say, referring to our Seen ‘N’ Heard in The Island of 6th January, 2026, and I totally agree with his comments.
Diliup: “AI avatars will take over these concerts. It will take some time, but it surely will happen in the near future. Artistes can stay at home and hire their avatar for concerts, movies, etc. Lyrics and dance moves, even gymnastics can be pre-trained”.
Yes, and that would certainly be unsettling as those without talent will make use of AI to deceive the public.
Right now at most events you get the stage crowded with lyrics stands and, to make matters even worse, some of the artistes depend on the smartphone to put over a song – checking out the lyrics, on the smartphone, every few seconds!
In the good ole days, artistes relied on their talent, stage presence, and memorisation skills to dominate the stage.
They would rehearse till they knew the lyrics by heart and focus on connecting with the audience.

Smartphones and lyrics stands: A common sight these days
The ability of the artiste to keep the audience entertained, from start to finish, makes a live performance unforgettable That’s the magic of a great show!
When an artiste’s energy is contagious, and they’re clearly having a blast, the audience feeds off it and gets taken on an exciting ride. It’s like the whole crowd is vibing on the same frequency.
Singing with feeling, on stage, creates this electric connection with the audience, but it can’t be done with a smartphone in one hand and lyrics stands lined up on the stage.
AI’s gonna shake things up in the music scene, for sure – might replace some roles, like session musicians or sound designers – but human talent will still shine!
AI can assist, but it’s tough to replicate human emotion, experience, and soul in music.
In the modern world, I guess artistes will need to blend old-school vibes with new tech but certainly not with smartphones and lyrics stands!
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