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Remembering Professor Ashley Halpe

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by Tissa Jayatilaka

As we mark the fifth anniversary of Professor Halpe’s passing, we remember him with gratitude and continue to celebrate his life and work. He was a teacher for over 50 years both at home and overseas. He also enriched us by his research, poetry, paintings and translations; as well as by his labours as a chorister, actor, director of plays and administrator. In addition, he was a guide, philosopher and friend to generations of students, many of whom have distinguished themselves in diverse fields of activity.

Whilst giving of himself, unstintingly, to the world around him in his characteristically understated style, Ashley Halpe’ remained the exemplary family man, a devoted husband and caring parent. So much so that it is impossible to speak or write about him without in the same breath mentioning his wife Bridget and children Mantha (Guy), Hassinee and Aparna.

Ashley Halpe’ was the quintessential Peradeniya man. He belonged to the very first batch of undergraduates who went up to the spanking new University of Ceylon on the banks of the Mahaweli Ganga in 1952 and remained there for almost his entire career except for a brief period in the early 1970s when he was unjustly compelled by the political authorities of the time to move to the then Vidyalankara Campus of the University of Sri Lanka.

In a chapter he contributed to a book on the Peradeniya University, Ashley Halpe’ has written enthusiastically and evocatively of the origins of his alma mater:

 

The whole concept was tremendous. This was no Oxford or Cambridge

growing at its own sweet pace over the centuries and evolving a visual

splendour of dreaming spires or of colleges by the Cam by imperceptible

increments. Peradeniya was all planning, its variations of Kandyan

architecture daringly blended with elements from Anuradhapura

and Polonnaruwa, the whole huge flower ” fragrant with shadow”

intricately balancing formal landscaping and chaste permitted wilderness

Complete with winding walks and warbling stream

Designed to breed debate and poetry. . .

 

[Peradeniya: Memories of a University. Eds. K.M de Silva and Tissa Jayatilaka]

 

Jean Arasanayagam, in a poetic tribute to Ashley Halpe’ has captured effectively this magic of Peradeniya:

 

That was the month I remember

When the trees were wreathed with coronets of flowers

Bougainvilleas bloomed in the ornamental park

Breathing in the excess of their own flamboyancy

We pushed aside their thorns

Crushed their tissue flowers like broken kites

Against our fingers.

 

It is this institution that nurtured Ashley Halpe’ and to which he gave back in ample measure. He did not hold back as did that miserly son who figures in that well known Sinhala folk poem. Peradeniya University did not ever have to pose to this distinguished son of hers the sad question that the distraught mother posed to her ungrateful son —manalada puthey kiri dunney ma nubata? Ashley Halpe’s giving was abundant and fulsome.

In addition to his appointment to the enormously prestigious and much-prized Chair of English at Peradeniya in 1965, at the young of 32, (he was one of the youngest to hold a University Chair in Ceylon), he served two terms as Dean of the Faculty of Arts, was the University Proctor, and head of the University Drama Society (DramSoc). Perhaps the only administrative responsibility he did not shoulder in his time is that of a Warden of a Hall of Residence.

Despite the load he carried as an administrator, Professor Halpe’ found the time for his academic and extra- curricular interests. His scholarly publication record which focused on aspects of Shakespearean drama and Shakespeare criticism and South Asian Creative Writing in English speaks for itself. Aside from several poems published in anthologies, three collections of Ashley Halpe’s poems are available. These are Silent Arbiters, Homing and other poems and Sigiri Verses, an adaptation of the 6th-9th Century Sinhala poems with an introduction and notes.

In a later publication Waiting for the Bells (2013), he brought together the poems that originally appeared in the two volumes, Silent Arbitersand Homing and other poems,a selection from his Sigiri Poems and other Sinhala translations, the complete Pasan,parts of which had appeared separately from time to time in various journals, and several other later poems. His labours as translator have yielded notable English versions of the novels and short stories of Martin Wickremasinghe.

That painting was one of Ashley Halpe’s varied talents and that he had held exhibitions of his paintings in Bristol, UK, in Sao Palo, Brazil and in Colombo and Peradeniya is not widely known. The energy and enthusiasm he invested in the Peradeniya University Dramatic Society (DramSoc) resulted in more than a dozen play productions designed and directed by him. Among these, my favourite is Strindberg’s The Father the 1966 offering of the DramSoc with the late Osmund Jayaratne in a memorable lead role. His contribution to education and literary activities outside the university is equally notable.

For the extensive and invaluable services detailed above, Professor Halpe’ was honoured both nationally and internationally. The Government of Sri Lanka conferred on him the Kalakeerthi and the Vishvaprasadini titles. The Governments of Sri Lanka and the United States awarded him two Fulbright Senior Fellowships while the Government of France made him Chevalier dans l’ordre Palmes Academique. He was an Honorary Fellow of Claire Hall, University of Cambridge, Resident Fellow at the Literary Criterion Centre for Indigenous Arts and Literature, Dhvanyaloka, Mysore, India, and Visiting Fellow at the American Studies Research Centre, Hyderabad, India.

All of these achievements and honours sat lightly on Ashley Halpe’ the man. His was an understated personality, with the humanity, humility and modesty of the truly educated person at its core. As a teacher, he did not mesmerize his students as some of his predecessors, notably Lyn Ludowyk and Doric de Souza, are reputed to have done. Not having had the good fortune of sitting at the feet of the former, the magister magistrorum, I shall accept the word of my predecessors at Peradeniya for this evaluation, but I certainly am able to vouch for the latter’s virtuosity having heard and watched him perform within the four walls of a classroom.

Ashley Halpe’ the teacher was calm and collected at all times and without histrionics of any kind. His knowledge and erudition were never on obvious display in or outside the classroom. He did not seek to talk at us. Rather his pedagogic labours were directed at ferreting out what we knew, thought and felt about literature and life. He never tried to poke us in the eye to make us see how much he knew! His disarming simplicity and unobtrusiveness was a crucial part of Ashley Halpe’s immense civility.

It was this Socratic teaching style combined with his respect for the students’ innate ability to chase leads that were offered that enabled him to reveal to us the inner depths plumbed by great men and women of letters as they (and we) grappled with the eternal verities. My own understanding of Shakespearean drama and the fiction of George Eliot in particular is due mostly to the manner and style with which Professor Halpe’ led me into discovering for myself those ‘spots of commonness’ of a Lydgate or the terrifying ambition of a Macbeth. That the hautboys one comes across in Macbeth are musical instruments and not arrogant young males is something I learnt thanks to Professor Halpe’s insistence on close reading and careful scrutiny of literary texts.

I wish to touch on certain personal recollections in conclusion. My freshman year at Peradeniya was suffused with boisterous antics as I revelled in ‘uncivilized fooling’ as most new entrants are wont to do. With the advantage of hindsight I am now aware that my unruly behaviour must have embarrassed Professor Halpe’ as he happened to be the University Proctor at the time. Besides the frolic and madness, there were other encounters of a serious nature during my early Peradeniya days that brought me unexpectedly close to Professor Halpe’. One such occurred during the insurgency of April 1971 when I was unwittingly in the way of possible grave harm. Without realizing that all student hostels except Hilda Obeyesekere Hall had been declared out of bounds for all male undergraduates by the authorities, I was yet at Arunachalam Hall after the new emergency arrangements had been enforced. It is more than likely that I would have been a victim of the ‘shoot to kill’ orders in force given especially the fact that my physical appearance at the time, replete with long hair and flourishing beard, qualified me to be thought of as a ‘Che Guevarist’ student revolutionary by the uniformed men in charge of crushing the insurgency.

I sought refuge at Professor and Mrs.Halpe’s house and was promptly thereafter placed under house arrest at the Lower Hantane residence of the Halpes. To keep me from landing in any further danger, with a little help from Fr.Augustine, the Catholic Chaplain of the University, the Halpes introduced me to the blessed game of Bridge. It was only after the coast was quite clear that I was eventually allowed to leave. I later came to know that Professor Halpe’ had taken even greater care of those undergraduates taken into custody under the hurriedly promulgated emergency regulations to deal with the insurgency.

It must surely have taken much courage for him to pursue this course as members of the university academic community were under suspicion and at the receiving end of the hostility of the military personnel because there were some dons who themselves were either involved in the uprising or were among those who empathized with the political convictions of the youthful insurgents. Bearing books, sympathy and understanding, Professor Halpe’ regularly visited the detained undergraduates. Later on, he was among the university authorities who assisted those of the detainees desirous of sitting their university examinations from prison.

The Halpe’ residence at Lower Hantane was also our not infrequent venue for DramSoc rehearsals, Music Society socials and several other memorable undergraduate activities. It was at these extra-curricular encounters that students and lecturers mingled informally. Looking down at us from his vantage point, Sir Ivor Jennings would doubtless have blessed the Halpes for keeping alive one of the finest aspects of a residential university like Peradeniya, viz,- that of fostering close intellectual and social interaction between the teachers and the taught. Professor and Mrs. Halpe’ were exemplary in upholding this wonderful Peradeniya tradition.

Of those with an education in the humanities that I have known and know personally, there indeed are only a handful who actually live by or reflect the virtues of and values of such an education. Indeed of only a few humanities specialists can it truly be said that all that’s best of literature and the arts meets in his aspect and his eyes. Professor Halpe’ was indisputably one of the very distinguished members of this wee tribe. I have never heard or seen in print harsh and disparaging words from him about anyone. His concern for family, friends and colleagues was sincere and heartfelt.

Two examples are offered in illustration of his inherent goodness as a person. The first of these is his taking care of his former teacher and later senior colleague Professor Hector Passe’ during the latter’s difficult and lonely last several months of post-retirement existence, subsequent to the early deaths of his wife and only child. He not only provided Professor Passe’ a home but also kept him gainfully occupied by inviting him to teach part-time. During this period, Professor Passe’ once more became a participant in all of the English Department social activities as well. In fact it was while enjoying himself in the company of his students and colleagues at a Going Down dinner that Professor Passe’ fell ill and passed away soon thereafter. Thus it was Professor Halpe’ who made it possible for Professor Passe’ to die with his boots on so to speak- – a consummation any teacher would devoutly wish for.

The other example is a very personal experience. At an extremely vulnerable early stage in my career as a young Assistant Lecturer at Peradeniya, I had occasion to turn to Professor Halpe’ for succour. Having laid bare my inner turmoil, I asked Professor Halpe’ for advice and direction. I qualified my request for assistance by saying ‘Sir, to a non-believer like myself, you are my God on earth.’ He did offer me ‘sentence and solace.’ Before he left me to ponder over his response, however, he said, ‘thank you for your deep faith in me, but, please, for my sake, let me remain human.’

Ashley Halpe’ may have on occasion revealed the clay in his feet. In so doing, he has offered proof of his human fallibity and vulnerability. If any amongst us has found him wanting in this respect, it is perhaps his or her fault for expecting Professor Halpe’ to be infinitely more than human as I did in my callow youth. For all of his human frailties or despite them, Ashley Halpe’ was a very true, near perfect, gentle human being. It is indeed a privilege to pay this public tribute to him on the fifth anniversary of his passing.

 

(This version of the article was published online on May 16.)



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Octopus, Leech, and Snake: How Sri Lanka’s banks feast while the nation starves

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Open any business newspaper in Sri Lanka on any given weekend and the headlines read like a celebration. Bank A’s assets have crossed Rs. 3 trillion. Bank B has reached the Rs. 2 trillion asset milestone. Bank C has posted a profit after tax of Rs. 6 billion in the first quarter of 2026 alone. Bank E has reported a profit before tax of Rs. 2 billion. Bank E has cleared Rs. 1.5 billion in pre-tax profit. Bank F revealed a profit after tax of Rs. 4 billion. The numbers are staggering in a country where per capita income remains fragile, the economic crisis of 2022 has left deep scars, and some 300,000 small and medium entrepreneurs are reportedly at risk of losing the roofs over their heads, and their businesses.

So, the question must be asked, loudly and without apology: how do Sri Lankan banks manufacture such colossal profits, and who, precisely, is paying for them?

The arithmetic of extraction

The answer lies in a three-digit spread that most depositors and borrowers never see printed side by side. Sri Lanka’s Central Bank has held its Overnight Policy Rate (OPR) at 7.75%, the mid-point of a corridor bounded by a Standing Deposit Facility Rate of 7.25% and a Standing Lending Facility Rate of 8.25%; a policy spread of a mere 1%. This is the rate at which banks lend to and borrow from the Central Bank overnight. It is the peg around which monetary policy turns. What happens when that peg meets the market is another story altogether.

A depositor walking into a Sri Lankan bank today will be offered somewhere between 6% and 9% on a fixed deposit, the rate varying by tenure, bank, and whether you qualify as a “senior citizen.” Average savings account rates sit between 2% and 5%, while fixed deposits offer 6% to 10%. Yet, the same bank will charge that depositor’s neighbour, who runs a hardware shop, a garment workshop, or a small hotel, between 14% and 24% to borrow. Credit cards carry rates at the upper end or beyond that range. The arithmetic is unambiguous: an interest spread of 8 to 14 percentage points, engineered on top of a policy rate corridor of just 1%.

A key driver of lending interest rates is the lending-deposit interest spread, which captures the efficiency with which banks allocate society’s savings to its most productive uses. High lending rates and spreads pose a challenge for policymakers: they can affect monetary policy transmission, hinder private investment and job creation, inhibit financial development and inclusion, and can ultimately compromise financial stability.

Sri Lanka’s spreads fail every one of those tests.

An international comparison that should shame regulators

To understand the scale of this extraction, one need only look at comparable economies. In India, the Reserve Bank’s repo rate stands at 6.5%, and commercial bank lending rates to prime borrowers average around 9–11%, yielding a spread of roughly 3–4 percentage points. Thailand and Vietnam, both developing Asian economies with nominal policy rates in the 2–4% range — maintain bank lending-deposit spreads consistently below 5 percentage points. Many countries in East Asia had average spreads of 5% or less during the 2010–2017 period, including China, South Korea, Japan, Myanmar, Thailand, and Vietnam.

Nepal, whose financial system is frequently and condescendingly compared unfavourably to Sri Lanka’s, reported a bank lending rate of 7.66% in late 2025, a figure that would be considered a floor, not a ceiling, in Colombo. Bangladesh records a lending rate of under 8%. Even Pakistan, whose policy rate touched 22% during a period of acute macroeconomic crisis, has since brought it down sharply, and its spread has never structurally embedded itself at the levels Sri Lankan banks now consider normal.

Move to advanced economies and the contrast becomes almost surreal. Japan’s policy rate remains effectively at zero; bank lending rates for business borrowers sit between 1% and 2.5%. Australia’s Reserve Bank rate stands at 4.35%, with commercial lending to small businesses typically in the 6–8% range, a spread of 2–3 points at most. New Zealand, Canada, and the United States operate within similar parameters: policy-to-lending spreads that are measured in single digits and that tighten competitively as banking markets mature.

Sri Lanka’s banks, by contrast, operate as if competition does not exist, and as if SMEs have nowhere else to go. They are largely correct on both counts.

The three creatures: A taxonomy of bank behaviour

A financial analyst, speaking in a podcast that has circulated widely among the Sri Lankan business community, offered a metaphor that deserves wider currency. Sri Lankan banks, he argued, behave with a three-stage predatory logic.

First, they are the Octopus, embracing customers tightly, wrapping tentacles around every financial transaction, every salary account, every utility payment, every insurance product. The bank becomes indispensable. It is everywhere. Cross-selling, bundling, and lock-in are the tools of this phase. The small businessman who secures a loan quickly finds that his current account, his trade finance, his letter of credit, and his overdraft are all with the same institution. He is held, firmly, from all sides.

Then, once the embrace is complete, comes the Leech, the slow, persistent extraction of blood. The interest rate spread does its patient work over months and years. A loan taken at 18% for a business generating 12% returns is a slow death sentence, mathematically guaranteed. Fees compound on fees. Penal interest accrues on unpaid interest. The CRIB record, Sri Lanka’s Credit Information Bureau system, locks the borrower in place: miss a payment, and no other institution will touch you. The leech feeds undisturbed.

And then, when the blood runs dry, when the business can no longer service its debt and the collateral has been fully leveraged, comes the Snake. Sri Lanka’s Parate Execution Law, enacted under the Recovery of Loans by Banks (Special Provisions) Act No. 4 of 1990, gives licensed commercial banks a power possessed by almost no other creditor class in any comparable jurisdiction: the right to seize and auction mortgaged property without any court order, without any judicial oversight, and without any independent valuation requirement.

Parate Execution is deeply ingrained in Sri Lanka’s legal system and has been a crucial tool for banks in recovering debts. The Cabinet-of-Ministers’ approval for a temporary suspension until December 2024 reflects a response to economic challenges, particularly for small and medium-sized enterprises. In 2023 alone, over 1,750 properties belonging to SMEs were auctioned under the law. These were not abstract balance sheet entries. They were factories, workshops, warehouses, family homes pledged as collateral, and the accumulated savings of a lifetime. Around 10 SME associations are collectively pushing for the continued suspension of parate executions, warning that nearly 300,000 entrepreneurs risk losing their assets if the law is enforced without reforms.

The snake, once it strikes, leaves nothing.

The Gates Prediction and the clever adaptation

Bill Gates, in his 1997 book ‘Business at the Speed of Thought’, famously observed that banking is necessary but banks are not, that the dinosaur institutions of the financial world would be swept aside once the Internet captured the transaction infrastructure that sustains them. A quarter of a century later, the banks are still here, and in Sri Lanka they are more profitable than ever. Gates underestimated the octopus’s adaptability.

Sri Lankan banks did not resist digital disruption; they absorbed it and charged for it. Sri Lankan banks have a genuine claim to technological pioneering. They were among the earliest institutions in the world to deploy automated teller machines and some have argued that the island served as a live testing ground for ATM technology before the technology was ready for larger markets.

Internet banking reduced their branch costs while preserving their pricing power. Mobile apps deepened the lock-in. The spread, the core engine of extraction, was never threatened by technology because technology cannot dissolve a regulatory monopoly or a CRIB record. The dinosaur learned to code.

What did not adapt was the relationship between bank profit and productive economic activity. In a functioning market, high bank profitability should signal efficient intermediation, savings being channelled productively into investment, employment, and growth. In Sri Lanka, it signals the opposite: a structural transfer of income from the productive economy, particularly from small businesses, to the financial statements of financial institutions that operate with insufficient competitive pressure, inadequate regulatory oversight of pricing, and a legal recovery toolkit that would be considered extraordinary in almost any other jurisdiction.

The SME crisis: When the host dies

The damage falls most heavily on small and medium enterprises, the sector that, in Sri Lanka as in every economy in the world, provides between 60% and 80% of all employment and generates the majority of entrepreneurial activity outside the formal corporate sector.

The International Monetary Fund has called for the reinstatement of parate execution, warning that prolonged suspension hinders banks’ ability to manage non-performing loans and price credit risks, potentially destabilizing the financial system. The IMF’s concern is legitimate in principle but perverse in practice. Non-performing loans in Sri Lanka’s banking system did not emerge from borrower profligacy. They emerged from a combination of historically high interest rates, a catastrophic economic crisis that was itself partly the product of fiscal and monetary mismanagement, and a forced-sale recovery mechanism that, when applied during a downturn, a double blow, destroys the very collateral value it claims to protect. When 1,750 properties are auctioned in a single year, supply floods a distressed market and prices collapse, damaging the bank’s recovery as much as the borrower’s livelihood.

What must change

The case for structural reform is not a case against banking or against profitable financial institutions. It is a case against a system that has substituted regulatory capture for competitive discipline, and legal coercion for constructive engagement.

Three reforms are overdue and increasingly urgent

.

First, the interest rate spread must be subject to transparent regulatory oversight. The Central Bank publishes the Average Weighted Prime Lending Rate and related statistics, but there is no binding ceiling on the spread between what banks pay depositors and what they charge borrowers for equivalent-risk instruments.

Second, the Parate Execution Law requires comprehensive reform, a genuine rewriting that introduces judicial oversight, mandatory independent valuation, and a structured mediation requirement before any forced sale can proceed.

Third, SME credit must be deliberately repriced. A development banking framework, should offer structured SME lending at regulated spreads, with the Central Bank providing concessional refinancing. Several peer economies have such mechanisms. Sri Lanka has the institutional capacity to build one; what it has lacked is the political will to confront the banking lobby that benefits from the current architecture.

The parasite and the host

There is an ecological principle that even the most effective parasite must learn: if it kills the host, it dies, too. Sri Lanka’s banking sector has not yet killed its host economy, but the symptoms of dangerous over-extraction are visible in every gazette notice of a parate auction, in every shuttered workshop in Pettah, in every garment factory whose owner defaulted not due to bad management but due to the mathematics of an 18% loan in a 12% return environment.

The banks will continue to announce their trillion-rupee asset milestones and their billion-rupee profits. The newspapers will continue to celebrate. And the octopus will continue its embrace, the leech its quiet work, and the snake will wait, patient, unhurried, for the moment to strike. Unless someone intervenes.

(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker,is a professor at SLIIT, Malabe. Views expressed in this article are personal.)

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Winged guardians of Sri Lanka’s natural heritage: Featured birds highlight biodiversity richness ahead of World Biodiversity Day

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Crimison Fronted Barbet

As the world prepares to observe the International Day for Biological Diversity, commonly known as World Biodiversity Day, on May 22, Sri Lanka stands as a vivid example of how a relatively small island can hold an extraordinary concentration of life.

The annual observance serves as a global reminder of the importance of protecting ecosystems and the rich variety of life forms that sustain the planet.

This year’s observance comes amid increasing international concern over biodiversity loss driven by habitat destruction, climate change, pollution, invasive species and unsustainable development. Scientists warn that the disappearance of species affects not only wildlife but also food security, water resources, livelihoods and ecological stability.

For Sri Lanka, World Biodiversity Day carries particular significance.

Despite occupying less than 0.03 percent of the Earth’s land surface, Sri Lanka possesses remarkable ecological richness and has earned global recognition as one of the world’s biodiversity hotspots.

The island’s forests, wetlands, rivers, mountains and coastal ecosystems support an extraordinary range of species, many of which are found nowhere else on Earth.

Among the most visible and fascinating representatives of this natural wealth are birds — creatures that fill forests and gardens with colour and song while performing critical ecological functions. Birds pollinate flowers, disperse seeds, regulate insect populations and serve as important indicators of environmental health.

Conservation Biologist Rajika Gamage of the Tea Research Institute says birds often provide the earliest signals of environmental changes taking place within ecosystems.

“Birds are among the most important indicators of habitat quality. Changes in bird populations can reveal ecological disturbances long before they become visible to people,” Gamage said.

Black bird

As Sri Lanka reflects on biodiversity conservation, five remarkable bird species — the Yellow-fronted Barbet, Crimson-fronted Barbet, Sri Lanka Hanging Parrot, Tawny-bellied Babbler and Blackbird — illustrate not only the beauty of the country’s avian diversity but also the interconnected nature of ecosystems.

Sri Lanka’s biological richness is exceptional by global standards. The island contains a high percentage of endemic species among amphibians, reptiles, freshwater fish, mammals and birds. The country’s geographical isolation, varied elevations and diverse climatic conditions have shaped unique evolutionary pathways over millions of years.

Its wet zone rainforests, dry zone forests, montane cloud forests, grasslands and agricultural landscapes collectively create a mosaic of habitats capable of supporting diverse life forms.

Gamage notes that biodiversity conservation extends far beyond protected areas.

“People often think biodiversity exists only inside national parks and forests. But biodiversity is supported through connected landscapes that include home gardens, agricultural lands, tea plantations, wetlands and village ecosystems,” he explained.

Research in plantation landscapes has demonstrated that tea-growing regions with habitat diversity and natural vegetation can support substantial bird populations, including endemic and ecologically important species.

Among the featured birds, the Yellow-fronted Barbet stands as one of Sri Lanka’s most recognisable endemic species.

The bird, with its bright green plumage, yellow forehead and blue facial markings, often remains hidden among dense foliage despite its loud repetitive calls echoing through gardens and forests.

Sri Lanka Hanging Parakeet

While many people hear its calls every day, few realise its importance within ecosystems.

The species feeds heavily on fruits and berries, becoming an important seed disperser. Seeds consumed by the bird are transported and deposited elsewhere, helping natural forest regeneration.

“Many birds function as ecological engineers without people realising it,” Gamage said. “Seed-dispersing species contribute directly to maintaining forest diversity.”

Equally colourful is the Crimson-fronted Barbet.

Distinguished by its vivid crimson forehead against green plumage, this endemic bird inhabits forests and tree-rich landscapes within wetter parts of Sri Lanka.

Like the Yellow-fronted Barbet, it performs a critical ecological function through seed dispersal.

The species often serves as an indicator of healthy vegetation and suitable habitat structure. Its ability to survive in modified landscapes with sufficient tree cover also demonstrates the importance of preserving green corridors beyond forests.

Another unique representative of Sri Lanka’s avian heritage is the Sri Lanka Hanging Parrot.

Tawny Bellied Babbler

Small, energetic and brightly coloured, the bird is famous for its unusual habit of sleeping upside down while hanging from branches.

Its striking appearance makes it popular among birdwatchers, but its ecological significance extends beyond aesthetics.

Feeding on fruits, flowers and nectar, the Hanging Parrot acts both as a pollinator and seed disperser.

As it travels among plants and trees, it assists natural reproductive processes essential for maintaining healthy ecosystems.

“Pollination and seed dispersal are among the foundations upon which ecosystems function,” Gamage explained.

Less conspicuous but equally valuable is the Tawny-bellied Babbler.

Often moving quietly through shrubs and undergrowth in pairs or small groups, the species spends much of its time searching for insects and other small invertebrates.

Unlike fruit-eating birds, the Tawny-bellied Babbler contributes to ecological balance through natural pest control.

Its feeding behaviour helps regulate insect populations, particularly within agricultural landscapes.

Birds that naturally reduce insect numbers provide ecological services that may reduce reliance on chemical pest-control methods.

The Sri Lanka Blackbird occupies yet another important ecological niche.

Found mainly in montane forests and cooler highland environments, the species reflects environmental conditions within sensitive mountain ecosystems.

Scientists often monitor highland bird populations because changes in their distribution or numbers can indicate broader environmental changes, including habitat degradation and climate impacts.

As World Biodiversity Day approaches, experts stress that conservation challenges continue to grow.

Habitat fragmentation, pollution, deforestation and climate-related pressures increasingly threaten ecosystems around the world, including Sri Lanka.

Yet conservationists emphasise that solutions frequently begin at local levels.

Protecting trees in home gardens, restoring degraded habitats, conserving wetlands and promoting biodiversity-friendly agricultural practices can all contribute significantly to preserving ecological balance.

Gamage believes that public understanding remains central to future conservation efforts.

“People should understand that biodiversity is not separate from human life. Clean water, fertile soils, pollination, climate regulation and ecological stability all depend upon biodiversity,” he said.

The songs of Sri Lanka’s birds may appear ordinary to casual listeners, but behind those sounds lies a story millions of years in the making.

The call of a Yellow-fronted Barbet from a village garden, the bright flash of a Hanging Parrot moving across a forest edge, the quiet movements of a Tawny-bellied Babbler beneath dense vegetation, or the presence of a Blackbird in cool mountain forests are all reminders of the extraordinary natural heritage the island possesses.

As Sri Lanka marks World Biodiversity Day alongside the global community, these winged ambassadors become more than beautiful wildlife species.

They represent the fragile yet complex web of life that sustains ecosystems — and ultimately sustains humanity itself.

Yellow Fronted Barbet

 

By Ifham Nizam

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The Time has come to move forward

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President Dissanayake / Minister Rathnayake / Minister Nanayakkara

Time, it is said, is the great healer. But there are some wounds that will not heal with time. They need specific and focused treatment. The dates May 18 and 19, the two final days of Sri Lanka’s three decade long war, are less in the consciousness of the people than before. But the continuation of the untreated and unhealed wounds of the war continues to be seen in the many groups of people who gather to remember their loved ones on these days. In Colombo, a group of victim families and committed activists from different communities gathered at Wellawatte beach and lit lamps. These gatherings are also a political statement that the wounds of the war remain untreated and unhealed.

One of the key features of May 18 and 19 has been the polarised positions taken by Tamil and Sinhalese groups. Tamil groups mourn those who perished in the war, especially in the last battles, on May 18 while many Sinhalese commemorate the military victory on May 19. Since 2015 there has been a diminishing of tensions due to the more nuanced way successive governments have marked the end of the war. This was especially the case during the governments led by Ranil Wickremesinghe and is now also true of the government headed by President Anura Kumara Dissanayake.

The present government has done much to mitigate the sense of polarisation between the state and the ethnic and religious minorities. The government’s insistence that it will treat all citizens equally and not support extremism in any form is appreciated by minorities who have often felt marginalised and viewed with suspicion in the past. But the government cannot afford to rest on its laurels merely because it is better than previous governments. It needs to take specific and focused action to heal the wounds of the past. Symbolic gestures and inclusive rhetoric are important, but they are not enough in themselves to deal with the consequences of a protracted ethnic conflict.

The unresolved issues are well known. They surface repeatedly in the resolutions on Sri Lanka passed at the UN Human Rights Council in Geneva. In 2015 Sri Lanka co-sponsored UN Human Rights Council Resolution 30/1 which called for reconciliation, accountability and constitutional reform including power sharing arrangements. This resolution and the ones that preceded it emerged from the demands of war affected communities and found resonance within the international human rights community. They include the issues of missing persons, disappeared persons, political prisoners, military occupation of civilian lands and accountability for alleged wartime abuses.

Most Capable

Under the NPP government, Tamil people have felt they can attend events commemorating those who died in the war in large numbers. This is evidence that the country is changing in the direction of reconciliation. State institutions too have cooperated in this process in creating a conducive climate for memorialisation. But despite the passage of 17 years since the end of the war, the emblematic issues remain unresolved although the government appears sincere in its desire to resolve them. Indeed, the government has deployed some of its most capable leaders to deal with these challenges.

President Dissanayake himself has taken on the task of reshaping public consciousness through speeches that emphasise unity rather than division. Minister of Justice and National Integration Harshana Nanayakkara has responsibility for institutions dealing with missing persons, reparations and reconciliation. Leader of the House Bimal Rathnayake has been entrusted with accelerating economic development in the north. Economic development is essential. The north and east require investment, jobs, infrastructure and opportunities for young people. Poverty and unemployment affect all communities and development can reduce feelings of exclusion. But economic development alone cannot resolve the deeper roots of ethnic conflict.

Protracted ethnic conflicts are rarely caused only by economic grievances. They are also about identity, dignity, historical memory and political power. This is where many governments in Sri Lanka have failed. They have believed that rapid development, highways, buildings and investment would be sufficient to overcome decades of mistrust. But communities that feel politically marginalized do not simply abandon their aspirations because roads are built or markets expand. Human beings seek recognition of who they are and a meaningful share in the decisions that govern their lives. Language is particularly important. In Tamil majority districts, the government secretariats continue to be staffed by those who are only Sinhala-speaking. This is a constant reminder to Tamil speakers that they are not equal to Sinhalese in their dealings with the state.

Academic research on divided societies has shown that constitutional arrangements can either exacerbate conflict or reduce it. Countries such as Belgium and Northern Ireland provide examples where systems of power sharing have enabled communities with different identities to coexist peacefully within a common state. In Northern Ireland, peace became sustainable only when political institutions ensured that both communities had a guaranteed role in governance rather than leaving one side permanently subordinate to the other. Sri Lanka’s own efforts at political reform have focused largely on territorial power sharing through the 13th Amendment to the Constitution and the provincial council system.

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The fact that the government leadership is now saying that provincial council elections will be held this year is therefore a positive development. It would restore democratic participation at the provincial level after years of delay and neglect. However, reforms need to go further. Provincial councils have remained weak institutions with inadequate powers and finances. Successive governments have hesitated to fully implement the provisions of the 13th Amendment, especially regarding land and police powers. These laws, including the language law, need to be fully implemented. The reluctance or incapacity of successive governments to do so, including the present one, has reinforced minority perceptions that promises of devolution are made but never sincerely implemented.

A new national narrative for Sri Lanka must therefore go beyond non racism and economic development. True reconciliation requires accepting diversity not as a threat but as the foundation of a united and peaceful country. Power sharing should not be viewed as a concession extracted under pressure. It should be understood as a democratic necessity in a plural society. The purpose of power sharing and giving equal rights to Tamil language speakers is not division but inclusion. It gives all communities a stake in the state and reduces the fear that political power will permanently remain in the hands of one community alone.

Sri Lanka has had leaders in the past who understood this reality. Prime Minister S W R D Bandaranaike attempted to reach a political settlement through the Bandaranaike Chelvanayakam Pact of 1957. Today the political context offers another opportunity. The nationalist forces that dominated politics for many years have lost credibility due to their association with corruption, economic collapse and political mismanagement. But where they did the right thing they are remembered positively as the late State Minister of Plantation Industries and Mahaweli Development in Sri Lanka Lohan Ratwatte still is in Batticaloa for having heeded the Tamil cattle farmers and appointing a Tamil officer to deal with their problems. The government has a two thirds majority in Parliament and enjoys significant public goodwill. This creates space for courageous leadership.

The time has therefore come for the government, opposition and minority political parties to put aside their bitter political feuds and engage with each other sincerely to arrive at a consensual political solution embedded within the Constitution. Sri Lanka has tried military victory, centralized rule and development centred approaches. None by themselves have resolved the ethnic conflict. The lesson of the past is that non racism and economic development are necessary, but they are not sufficient. Lasting peace in Sri Lanka requires power sharing, trust building and a political settlement that gives every community a sense of belonging to a country they all feel is home.

by Jehan Perera

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