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CHAPTER 14

(Excerpted from N.U. JAYAWARDENA The first five decades)

Continued From Last Week

It is said that Kotelawala made an application to the Central Bank for the transfer of a large sum of money to Britain for the purchase of property. NU mentioned that the application was made during the first premiership of Dudley Senanayake, “as financial protection from unsettling forces which he [Kotelawala] felt would overtake the country” (N.U. Jayawardena, c.1985, p.62). According to the Central Bank and Exchange Control regulations at that time, the transfer of such a large sum was not permissible, and would have violated existing regulations. As such, NU recommended the refusal of Kotelawala’s application to the Finance Minister J.R. Jayewardene and Prime Minister Dudley Senanayake. This action would have serious repercussions in the future. NU’s daughter describes this episode:

When my father was in the Central Bank, Sir John Kotelawala applied for special approval to remit funds to the United Kingdom, which exceeded the legally approved limit. My father in his tactless way said that he could not do this but that Sir John was welcome to change the law and that my father would grant him the required permit after this was done. My parents always maintained that Sir John Kotelawala never forgave my father for the stand he took on his request. (Neiliya Perera, personal recollections)

To shed some light on the reasons for NU’s stance on the issue, it is important to note that, while the “Rubber Boom” of 1950-51 (at the time of the Korean War) had permitted Sri Lanka to enjoy a brief spell of economic prosperity, due to an increase in the export price of rubber, by 1952 the Central Bank had warned the government about worsening economic conditions and began to re-impose “certain restrictions of [foreign] remittances” (Central Bank, c.1975, p.41). In mid-1952, the government also launched a programme that was “primarily designed to conserve foreign exchange and to eliminate the budget deficit” (ibid, p.49). However, in 1953, an adverse balance of trade still existed, leading to cash shortages, and the government had to obtain a sterling loan from the British government to bridge the gap. NU accompanied OEG, the Finance Minister, to Britain in 1953 to negotiate this loan, and did so again in 1954 to negotiate a further loan (Ranasinghe, 1972, p.306).

Kotelawala did not take kindly to NU’s rejection of his application to remit money abroad. According to Neiliya, NU was “a man who did not suffer fools gladly” and who was “outspoken to the point of being arrogant.” This rejection would have only rubbed further salt into the wounds of a powerful man who was quick to take insult. NU, with legendary abilities to master any subject and administrative skills valued by his superiors, would find that these assets did not serve him well in this case. He would soon learn that it was not wise to displease powerful politicians.

Some time during this period, a verbal skirmish of sorts had taken place between John Kotelawala and NU at the silver wedding reception of a mutual friend, with some name-calling, and Kotelawala threatened to take revenge on NU (Wickramaratne, 2002).

John Lionel Kotelawala

The above-described incidents as well as a few biographical details will provide some insight into the nature of the man who succeeded Dudley Senanayake as Prime Minister, and have relevance when describing the events that took place affecting NU. John Lionel Kotelawala, born in 1897 was the son of John Kotelawala, a police inspector, who after marriage became involved in the “management of his wife’s family estates and properties” (Wriggins, 1960, p.32). Kotelawala Sr. was celebrated in some quarters for his bravado and physical exploits. ( . See Dep, pp.317, 319 & 334; Jeffries, pp.29-30, K. Jayawardena, 1972, pp.125-27; and Kotelawala, pp.12-13 & 14. From the age of ten, Kotelawala Jr. was raised by his mother Alice, after his father died under unfortunate circumstances. (See: de Silva and Wriggins, 1988, p.46 and Wriggins, 1960, p.112.)

By his own account, Kotelawala (Jr.) (1956, p.12), was from his early days, impulsive – prone to “acting first and thinking afterwards” – and his memoirs are full of references to incidents in which he appears to extol the use of violence and strong-arm tactics. There are many anecdotes from his contemporaries and historians that attest to his volatile nature. (See Abeysekera, pp.145-46; Fernando, p.21; Jeffries pp.29-30; Kotelawala; pp.68-69, and Manor pp.192, 223-24 & 226.)

The Politics of Rice Subsidies

Events closely linked to the issue of food subsidies were to occur, which resulted in the decision by Dudley Senanayake to step down as Prime Minister and his replacement by Kotelawala. Food subsidies, which had been introduced during World War II as emergency measures to keep the cost of living down, had not been removed after the war and were regarded by the masses as an entrenched right However, food subsidies were becoming increasingly untenable, as the gap between the world price and the subsidized price of foodstuffs widened – as we have seen in Chapter 12. The opportunitycost of subsidizing food was the crowding out of expenditure on themuch-needed capital investment required to bring Sri Lanka out of its dependency on imports, which was the crux of the problem. In September 1952, the rice ration was reduced from two measures to one and the price of sugar was raised. Yet, by 1953, 20 per cent of the government revenue was being spent to meet the gap between the subsidized price of rice offered to the public and the actual price the government had to pay on the world market to obtain it (Wriggins, 1960, p.289).

Faced with an acute financial crisis, J.R. Jayewardene, as Finance Minister, proposed the withdrawal of the rice subsidy in the Budget of 1953/1954 – which meant that the price of rice would rise from 25 cents to 70 cents a measure. Aggravating the situation, the free midday meal for school children was also abolished, and the cost of rail travel and postal services was increased.

The Budget was passed in Parliament, but before the debate could be concluded, the Opposition seized this opportunity to organize a hartal (a stoppage of work and all activities) on 12 August 1953. All over the country, large crowds participated and blocked the roads in rural and urban areas. In order to disperse the crowds, the police opened fire, and some protesters were killed.

Unnerved by this event, Dudley Senanayake felt unable to cope with the turmoil and gave up his premiership, resulting in John Kotelawala taking office as Prime Minister in October 1953. J.R. Jayewardene was made Minister of Agriculture, and Oliver Goonetilleke became Finance Minister. Sometime after assuming office, Kotelawala lowered the price of subsidized rice to 55 cents, when a recovery in export prices made this possible. Nevertheless, the resentment of the public continued to grow. And though Kotelawala had finally achieved his ambition of becoming Prime Minister, his tenure in office would last barely two and a half years.

Upon Kotelawala’s assumption of office, the personal animosity between Kotelawala and NU appears to have continued unabated. According to Edmund Eramudugolla (2004, p.16), NU “took lightly” the official functions at Temple Trees (the Prime Minister’s residence) and “invariably arrived late… often just at the time [Kotelawala] was getting ready to leave for [his home in] Kandawala.” On one such occasion, as NU arrived, Kotelawala presented him to the other guests: “His Excellency the Governor of the Central Bank,

N.U. Jayawardena, a very busy man, busier than the PM.” NU did not seem to bow to those in power. As Eramudugolla observed, NU “was conscious of his intellectual brilliance but unfortunately built up an intellectual arrogance to the annoyance of important persons in the political and public life of the country” (ibid, p.18). In this atmosphere of political infighting, heightened emotions and intrigue, it did not take long for John Kotelawala to use his power to settle scores with NU.

Kotelawala’s Turbulent Term in Office

Kotelawala’s term in office was no easier than Dudley’s. Personal discord still existed within the party, while Kotelawala’s flamboyant lifestyle and public pronouncements stoked much controversy and anger among the public. In the course of his abbreviated premiership, both R.G. Senanayake and Dudley Senanayake would leave the party in an attempt to distance themselves from Kotelawala’s actions. While the UNP had many economic and social accomplishments of which it could be proud, resentment and outrage against what was seen as bribery and corruption within the government began to gain momentum. According to Wriggins (1960, p.335):

The wealth of the party, the privileged position of its known supporters… the alleged misuse of the public service and the fact that close relatives of the prime minister himself were appointed to lucrative and prominent posts regardless of competence did much to harm the U.N.P. In an apparent bid to deflect public fury away from the government, Kotelawala set up a Bribery Commission with special powers of investigation. It has been alleged that Kotelawala used the powers of this commission as an instrument to intimidate individuals and, as Wriggins (1960, p.335) stated, also for “personal revenge.”

Commission of Inquiry

A few months after becoming Prime Minister, Kotelawala began his campaign against NU by appointing a commission to inquire into his conduct as Governor of the Central Bank. The commission consisted of Justice A.R.H. Canakaratne, Justice H. A. de Silva, and Sir Eric Jansz. It was given the following terms of inquiry: the affairs and general conduct of Neville Ubesinghe Jayawardena… and his wife Gertrude Mildred Jayawardena… and the financial and other dealings with banks, corporations and individuals of Mr. and Mrs. Jayawardena, before and after Mr. Jayawardena was appointed as Governor of the Central Bank and in particular upon forty-nine matters therein mentioned.

Oliver Goonetilleke

The Commission sat for 20 days. The lawyers for the Jayawardenas were D.S. Jayawickrema, Q.C., and G.T. Samarawickrema (NU’s maternal relation). The main charge was that NU, as Governor of the Central Bank, had taken loans for building his house from commercial banks and other sources. NU contended that, like any other citizen, he had the right to do so, and that this did not compromise his position as Governor of the Central Bank, nor jeopardize its interests. After the inquiry, the Commission gave its verdict that NU’s actions were violations of the position he held. The Commission reported that: While Mr. Jayawardena was holding the respective offices of Controller of Exchange, Deputy Governor and Governor of the Central Bank, the financial transactions of Mr. and Mrs. Jayawardena with their banks and other persons were on a scale quite out of proportion to their income. (p.72, No. 315 of Sessional Paper XX of 1954)

While holding high office, NU was alleged to have used his official position as security for loans from banks and individuals for the purchase of land. On the Commission’s verdict, NU was dismissed from the Central Bank on 15 October 1954. This blow could not have come at a worse time in his life. After serving the government for 28 years in various capacities and attending to problems that a lesser man could not have coped with, NU now found himself in the wilderness. His wife was suffering from a heart ailment, and he had two sons and a daughter to support. His elder son Lal was already studying for an Economics degree at Cambridge University, and the younger Nimal was soon to leave for Cambridge, to study Economics and Law. Concerned that his father could not meet the expenses, Nimal wanted to stay behind. However, NU assured him that he would somehow meet his expenses at Cambridge and urged him not to be hasty.

NU and his family, having had to move out of Bank House, had no place of their own to live. Until that time, they had lived in rented premises. Like most Sri Lankans, NU put great store in home ownership. Now, the house he had first owned in Park Road – built before he became Governor – had to be sold. As Neiliya recalls, the house:

was designed by Edward, Reid and Begg and built by the Tudawe Brothers. This house was rented out when we moved to the Bank Governor’s residence. Behind the house, he built two flats in the excess land, funded by the Colombo Commercial Company – which was to take on the premises on a rent-free basis for a number of years in return for the money the company invested. My parents had to sell the Park Road home, which they had so lovingly constructed, in order to pay for the case. My father and mother fortunately had the strength and courage to handle the situation.

The trauma took a toll on the family in other ways as well. Neiliya continues:

The period was extremely difficult for my parents and myself. My brothers were fortunately abroad in university and escaped most of the trauma. My parents suffered greatly as a result of this episode. My father, who was a very social person, became a recluse. He started writing articles on economics and banking and on a variety of subjects for the newspapers, to keep himself occupied.

After long being at the centre of a hectic social and working life, NU suddenly found himself relatively alone and isolated. However, during the crisis, he found out who his true friends were. According to Stanley Wickramaratne, some who had known him shunned him, while a few others came to his assistance. For instance, Clarence Amerasinghe, the owner of Car Mart, lent him a car, and some friends gave the family a place to stay. NU also received letters of support from friends around the world. They included persons high up in the banking sector in Britain, some of whom had known him officially. His friend Cyril Hawker, of the Bank of England, kept in touch with NU’s two sons, reporting back on their progress to their parents. In Sri Lanka, Peri Sunderam, an early mentor and former Minister of Labour who had given NU his first opportunities for advancement, and who greatly appreciated his ability, sent him a reassuring letter. He expressed his “deep regret,” and urged NU to have the “will of mind to face this calamity with courage and hope.” Knowing that NU would overcome this misfortune, Peri Sunderam wrote:

You are still young and your talents may be usefully employed for other service. I am sure that the future is not bleak for you and that your experience and ability will be harnessed. I hope that your children are clever enough not to be blasted by this temporary misfortune of yours. (Letter dated 15 Oct. 1954, N.U. Jayawardena Personal Files)

Chapter 13 can read online on – https://island.lk/the-central-bank-2/

By Kumari Jayawardena and Jennifer Moragoda ✍️



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Revolt in the Temple: Poverty as Structural Control

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The underlying issue in Anuradhapura is a struggle between a few families who, for years, have waged a quiet cold war over control of the Udamaluwa. Similar situations exist in Mihintale as well. These places, among others, are treated as treasures of Buddhism but, in practice, function as tightly controlled economic centres. The same pattern repeats in Kandy around the Temple of the Sacred Tooth Relic and in Kataragama at the shrine of God Kataragama. Variations of it exist across religious spaces of Islam, Catholicism, and Hinduism too, where institutional authority becomes indistinguishable from localised power networks. What is presented as sacred order often operates as inherited control.

It is indeed devastating to see situations where parents have no alternative but to expose their children to predators in robes for survival. This has nothing to do with religion itself, but with human pathology in the context of survival. These are the questions that demand answers, not superficial responses that treat symptoms while ignoring the conditions that produce them. What is more shocking and disturbing is not the tragedy itself, but the reactions to it. Social media has overwhelmed us, not towards understanding, but towards a fragmented cognitive state with no exit route.

A friend of mine in Nairobi used to keep all his electronic devices at home and go into the forest once a month, spending days there before returning. He called it “detoxification”, but in reality it was an escape from a system that no longer allows uninterrupted thought. Daily life is now saturated with unnecessary content, and attention itself has become a commodity extracted, processed, and sold back to us. This is where we have become unable to understand what really drives certain tragedies we endlessly react to, while remaining blind to the systems that quietly manufacture them.

Multi-dimensional poverty

Poverty is structural, poverty is political, and poverty is functional; it is a tool and a manoeuvring force of power. The question is no longer whether poverty exists, but who benefits from its persistence, and who is forced to survive within it. From education to medicine to basic food supply chains, countries like Sri Lanka are not simply mismanaged; they are structurally captured by a small number of actors who remain stable regardless of who is formally in power. Small-scale enterprises and NGO circuits that circulate foreign funding to “solve structural issues” often operate as hollow administrative performances, producing reports rather than transformation.

Poverty is not merely the absence of money. It is the absence of bandwidth, absence of protection, absence of time, and absence of cognitive stability. As Sendhil Mullainathan and Eldar Shafir state, “Scarcity captures the mind. Just as the starving subjects had food on their mind, when we experience scarcity of any kind, we become absorbed by it.” This is a description of how human cognition is structurally reorganized under constraint. Scarcity does not sit outside the person; it occupies them.

They also state, “Scarcity leads us to borrow and pushes us deeper into scarcity.” That is the mechanism that must be confronted without euphemism. Poverty is not only deprivation; it is a self-reinforcing trap in which survival decisions generate the next layer of crisis. Once a society crosses a certain threshold of scarcity, it stops producing long-term reasoning as a default condition. It produces short-term survival logic, often mistaken by outsiders for irrationality.

It is precisely here that public discourse becomes intellectually dishonest. Everything is translated into moral language because moral language is easier than structural analysis. But morality without structure becomes theatre. It produces outrage, not understanding, and repetition, not reform.

It is indeed brutal when an individual wearing religious insignia—whether robe, symbol, or institutional identity—is accused of acts that fundamentally contradict the moral authority attached to that position. It is equally brutal when institutions that depend entirely on trust begin to function as shields rather than safeguards. But the deeper question is not shock. The deeper question is what kind of social condition produces families who see placement within such institutions not only as devotion, but as a survival strategy under constraint.

Ethical decision-making

That is where the argument collapses into its most uncomfortable form. Poverty does not produce ethical decision-making environments. It produces constrained optimization under pressure. When food insecurity, debt, and social instability converge, institutional spaces that appear stable become transactional destinations for survival rather than moral choices. To interpret this as purely cultural failure is to deliberately ignore the structural compression of options.

Mullainathan and Shafir describe this clearly: “Instead of saying that scarcity ‘focuses,’ we could just as easily say that scarcity causes us to tunnel: to focus single-mindedly on managing the scarcity at hand.” That tunnelling effect is not abstract. It is visible wherever long-term planning collapses under immediate pressure. Systems then misread this as irresponsibility, when it is in fact cognitive overload produced by structure.

What is rarely acknowledged is how deeply this extends into governance itself. Institutions increasingly operate as if they are managing rational, unconstrained individuals. In reality, they are interacting with populations whose cognitive bandwidth is already structurally taxed. The result is policy failure interpreted as public non-compliance, enforcement interpreted as moral correction, and reform interpreted as communication failure rather than design failure.

Social media has intensified this distortion. It does not merely spread information; it destroys sequencing. Structural problems require temporal depth. Social media removes that depth and replaces it with instantaneous judgment. Every event becomes a surface object, detached from causality. The outcome is a society permanently reacting and never diagnosing.

Poverty, in this environment, becomes invisible in its real form. It is not seen as a continuous structural condition but as episodic failure. A scandal appears, is consumed, and disappears. Another replaces it. Nothing accumulates into understanding because attention itself is exhausted before synthesis can occur.

Modern Condition

The modern condition reflects a reversal of earlier social organization, where human relationships are embedded within abstract systems of finance, law, and administration that often fail to recognize the lived constraints of those they govern. In this disembedded state, institutions increasingly misinterpret human behaviour as their capacity for structural understanding weakens. At the same time, attempts to resolve systemic failures through expanding administrative complexity produce diminishing returns: more regulation, oversight, and reporting generate less coherence. Over time, institutions shift from functional effectiveness to symbolic performance, maintaining the appearance of control rather than achieving it.

This is why public outrage repeatedly fails to translate into structural change. Outrage is not a tool of reconstruction. It is a signal of system fatigue. It circulates, intensifies, and dissipates without altering the underlying architecture. Meanwhile, the conditions that produce repetition remain intact.

The most persistent illusion is that these are separate problems: poverty here, institutional misuse there, media distortion elsewhere. They are not separate. They are expressions of a single condition in which scarcity, complexity, symbolic authority, and fragmented enforcement interact without coordination. The system does not fail in one place; it fails in the gaps between these layers.

Symbolic systems

What makes this condition more severe is that symbolic systems continue to operate at full strength even when structural systems degrade. Religious identity remains powerful. Political rhetoric remains strong. Cultural symbolism remains intact. But enforcement capacity, institutional coherence, and social trust degrade beneath them. That gap is where instability grows. Until that gap is addressed at the level of structure rather than sentiment, repetition remains inevitable. New scandals will emerge, new interpretations will circulate, and new cycles of outrage will follow. Nothing resolves because nothing is being reconstructed beneath the surface of reaction.

This is no longer repairable through adjustment or rhetoric. It is a form of decay that persists until it exhausts itself, because the mechanisms meant to correct it are now part of the same failure. It continues until rupture, not reform. At that point, instability ceases to be episodic and becomes structural. Pressure will accumulate into breakdown, and what follows will not be managed transition but forced reversal. The responsibility lies with those who govern these institutions to prevent that trajectory, not through language, but through change. The drama is ending; farce is over; what we are witnessing is tragedy unfolding with unprecedented consequences.

by Nilantha Ilangamuwa

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Are threats to Buddha Sasana external or from within?

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As Sri Lanka celebrates the birth, Enlightenment and the Parinibbana of the Buddha, almost a month after the rest of the Buddhist-world did so, there is widespread discussion about threats to Buddha Sasana provoked by some recent incidents. Regarding the views expressed about postponing Vesak celebrations in my article ‘May Day and postponement Vesak 2026’ (The Island, 25 May), my very good friend Dr Upali Abeysiri has sent me the following comments: “The Mahanayakas have a good reason to postpone Vesak. The dawning of the full moon has to be on the same constellation (nekatha) as when the Buddha was born and attained enlightenment. Although Adhi Poya is reckoned as the second full moon arising in the same calendar month, this is supposed to be an odd exception.” Though it would have been ideal if a consensus could have been reached prior to the split of celebrations, perhaps, it does not matter very much as celebrations occur on a symbolic rather than an actual date, there being no historical or archaeological evidence confirming exact dates.

Whilst there are no direct threats to Buddha Dhamma, as the expanding horizons of science continue to confirm the fundamentals of Buddha Dhamma, there is no doubt whatsoever that there are threats to Buddha Sasana. However, these threats become important as the Buddha Sasana performs the pivotal role in protecting and propagating the Dhamma and, hence, become an indirect threat to Dhamma itself. Therefore, it should be the concern of all Buddhists and it is in this spirit I am making some comments which some may interpret as disrespectful to the Maha Sangha. I can reassure that my intentions are entirely directed towards the preservation of the Buddha Dhamma and Sasana. Though the Buddha proclaimed that the Sasana consists of Bhikkhu, Bhikkhuni, Upasaka and Upasika, for all practical purposes Sasana had been led by Bhikkhus, often at the expense of others.

There is hardly any doubt that there are external forces at play in Sri Lanka and even some Buddhists seem to object to Sri Lanka being called a Buddhist country. Interestingly, no one seems to object to countries like the UK and the USA being called Christian counties. I

There is no registration or baptism in Buddhism and there are no rewards for Buddhists for conversions. As I pointed out in a previous article, ‘How does the Buddha differ’ (The Island, 1 May) unlike most other religions, Buddhism is not a ‘high-demand’ religion, nor ‘law-based’ religion and is not exclusivist. Perhaps, it is this liberalism, pacifism and gentleness, which are the real strengths, that are being exploited as weaknesses by others.

There will always be external threats and the Buddha too faced many during his lifetime. Before addressing those, is it not more important to address the threats within? One of the most important problems seems to be the breakdown of discipline. Bhikkhus are bound by Vinaya rules, laid down by the Buddha and some recent incidents highlight total deviations. Though there were many previous incidents like unsubstantiated claims of Arahanthood, Bhikkhus attacking each other on YouTube and Bhikkhus conducting YouTube channels, not for the propagation of the Dhamma but for the accumulation of rupees, attention was focused after the detection of 22 young monks carrying narcotic drugs.

Though many commentators were quick to condemn the Sangha on this account, we need to go deeper. Narcotic menace has become a huge problem in Sri Lanka and it looks as if the drug lords would resort to anything to achieve their objectives. Though it looks as if some gullible young monks had been duped by drug lords, we need to question why it was possible. Is it due to the lack of supervision of these novices by their seniors that allowed them to accept a request in a WhatsApp group? Should there be checks and balances on foreign travel by Bhikkhus?

What shocked Buddhists was what followed next; the arrest of the Nayaka of Atamasthana for allegedly having sex with a minor. Anuradhapura was our first capital and Sri Maha Bodhi is the longest surviving authenticated tree in the world. Ruwanweliseya and Jetawanaramaya were among the ten tallest man-made structures in the ancient world, Jetawanaramaya still holding the Guiness record for the largest stupa in the world. Cyberspace is full of theories. Whilst some have condemned the Nayaka Thero even before the conclusion of inquiries whilst others claim that this was a coup by another Nayaka Thera in an attempt of succession.

I was intrigued, reading in a Sri Lankan newspaper about the 80th birthday celebrations of a Nayaka priest, who was convicted in London in 2012 of historical child sex abuse and sentenced to seven years in prison. I remember the case very well as he was the head of the Vihara, we had our first contact on relocating to the UK. I also remember his devotees, who believed that he was wrongly accused, collecting over £50,000 for an appeal. In spite of being represented by one of the top Barristers in the UK, the conviction was upheld but the jail-term was reduced by a year. His name is still on the sex-offenders register in the UK and he is permanently prevented from association with children. One can argue that as he has served the sentence and not reoffended, this should not be held against him but what baffled me is that he is still being referred to as the Chief Sangha Nayaka. Should a person on the sex-offenders register be the Chief Sangha Nayaka?

It is high time we put our own house in order before fighting the external enemies. It is reported that the former president CBK has written to the Mahanayakas requesting urgent reform and we should be obliged to her for taking the lead.

There are many aspects that need urgent reform, the first being removal of caste barriers practiced by some Nikayas, which is the greatest insult to the Buddha who promoted equality. The second is the active encouragement of Bhikkhuni Sasana which has not happened in spite of the landmark ruling by the supreme court. The third is the establishment of proper disciplinary processes under a single Adhikarana Sangha Nayaka with powers and support than allowing the government to take over the control of even non-criminal Vinaya matters.

There are many other issues that need settlement like the controversy of the land of Buddha’s birth which seems to linger on. An expert committee should hear all evidence and settle this issue once and for all.

As I have pointed out on many occasions in these columns, it is high time a Dhamma Sangayana was held, as the last one was 70 years ago. Ideally, it should be different with active participation of lay experts as well. It is the duty of us Buddhists to ensure that the words of wisdom of the Buddha continue to enlighten generations to come.

By Dr Upul Wijayawardhana

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Vijaya Kumar: Academic, Activist & Genial Fellow-Traveller

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Professor Vijaya Kumar

The University of Ceylon, Peradeniya, was in our time, a less-crowded residential university, where everybody knew everybody else or at least knew of everybody else.

I knew of Emeritus Professor Vijaya Kumar of the Department of Chemistry at Peradeniya, or Kumar, as we referred to him fondly, before I got to know him. His dear wife Savitri, also a member of the academic staff of the Department of Chemistry, was nicknamed Kumee, by some of their students (of which vintage is unknown to me) and the duo were thereafter referred to affectionately as Kumar and Kumee.

The Faculty of Science became a regular haunt of mine as I would go there in the company of my batchmates to attend lectures on Basic Mathematics given by Professor Maheswaran, as it was a requirement for our General Arts Qualifying Examinations. I would also go there to listen to some excellent talks under a programme that was held in the auditorium of the Science Faculty referred to as “Popular Science Gossip”. The “gossip” at these talks were not confined solely to science but were broad enough to include Literature, History and other branches of knowledge as well. I would often spot Kumar in the audience at these talks or bump into him in the corridors of the Science Faculty. But I got to know him personally only after he became the Warden of Arunachalam, my hall of residence, during my undergraduate years initially, and later, as a member of the academic staff of the Department of English.

Our Science Faculty undergraduate contemporaries, especially those at Arunachalam Hall and its immediate neighbour, Jayatilaka Hall, both within a stone’s throw away from the Science Faculty, shared many an anecdote about Kumar and their other lecturers. One of these anecdotes, had to do with a spectacular (motor car) driving feat of Kumar’s. Legend has it that he drove from his university bungalow-home to the Faculty of Science deploying only the reverse gear of his car! Kumar, on hearing of this, had told certain of his student friends, including some who became his colleagues later on, that this story is one of the biggest yarns he had heard in his life!

Some of his one-time younger colleagues, now in retirement like Kumar, tell me that Kumar exuded warmth and friendliness in all of his professional and administrative interactions with others in the wider university community. But there was no warmth or mercy for those who indulged in the unsavoury pastime of student ‘ragging’. He was a very strong proponent of the need to ensure to all freshers an environment free of the menace of ‘ragging’. He remained ever-vigilant during the ‘ragging’ season. There are stories of his chasing ‘raggers’ and catching them. Professor Maheswaran, who later became an intimate friend and remains so after more than half a century, was another who was fiercely opposed to ‘ragging’. I was a personal witness to Mahes chasing a ‘ragger’ up and down the stairs of the main library to nab him. Yet another of his students has noted that Kumar’s office room in the Faculty was a total mess at all times. It had tables, piled so high with books and documents that one could not easily spot Kumar at his desk. He, however, had the knack of pulling out from amidst the clutter, any document that he needed at any given time. If anybody were to volunteer to help tidy his desk, Kumar would respond firmly with “Don’t you touch my desk!”.

Kumar, like several of his colleagues in the other faculties as well, had his own eccentricities. According to information received from reliable sources, Kumar who taught Organic Chemistry used to carry his lecture notes in his shirt or trouser pocket with ‘the entire lecture condensed in point form on a half-sheet or half of a half-sheet of paper’. The way he rummaged through his sling bag filled to the brim with stuff to find an item that he needed was another ritual that amused onlookers.

Kumar, interestingly enough is a Royal-cum-Thomian product, in that he had his primary education at S.Thomas’ Prep School, Kollupitiya and the entirety of his secondary education at Royal College, which he entered in 1953. In a note written by Kumar himself, he notes that despite having had excellent teachers at Royal, his was not a notable school career. He goes on to say that “the only achievement I could boast of was my being the joint-winner of the school General Knowledge Prize”. However, he had been active in a Scout Group outside of school (1st Port of Colombo, Sea Scouts) where he “was Queen’s Scout, Patrol leader, and later, Assistant Scout Master”.

Kumar entered the Faculty of Science of the University of Ceylon in 1961 and secured from it an honours degree in Chemistry in 1965. He joined the academic staff of the Department of Chemistry in the Faculty of Science, University of Ceylon, Peradeniya in 1965 and left the following year for Magdalen College at Oxford University, from which institution he obtained his doctorate in Chemistry. His entire teaching career was at Peradeniya, where in the period 2003-2006 he served as the Dean of the Faculty of Science, a position that his late father-in-law had held a few decades earlier.

Among the other highlights of his career are: Chairman of the Industrial Technology Institute (formerly the Ceylon Institute of Scientific and Industrial Research, CISIR); Member (representing Sri Lanka) of the Geneva-based UN Commission on Science and Technology from 1999 to 2007 and its President from 2001-2003; President of the Sri Lanka Estate Workers Union from 1989 onwards; Member of the Politburo of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party from 1988 to 2014 and currently, a member of the Executive Committee of the National People’s Power (NPP).

Vijaya and Savitri Kumar are parents of daughters Shamala and Ramya, who are following in the footsteps of their parents: with the former teaching in the Department of Agricultural Economics in the Faculty of Agriculture, University of Peradeniya and the latter, in the Department of Community Medicine at the University of Jaffna.

(I wish to thank the following who assisted me in the writing of this brief essay: Mr. Bandula Warnakulasuriya, Emeritus Professor Ratnayake Bandara, Professor Mahinda Wickramaratne, Professor Swarna Wimalasiri and Mr. Manik de Silva).

*Editor’s note: Prof. Vijaya Kumar, a member of the NPP’s National Executive Committee and is still active in politics turns 84 today. This article by Tissa Jayatilaka, former Executive Director of the United States – Sri Lanka Fulbright Commission for Mutual Academic Exchange, was written for an upcoming collection of essays on Kumar’s life by his friends.

(Colombo Telegraph)

By Tissa Jayatilaka

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