Features
S.W.R.D Bandaranaike – (1899- 1959): laid low by six bullets from an assassin’s weapon
(Excerpted from Selected Journalism by HAJ Hulugalle)
Sir Solomon Dias Bandaranaike who was Maha Mudaliyar or Chief Interpreter to the Governor was born on May 22, 1862. Sir Solomon acted as extra A.D.C. to His Majesty King George V of England during the latter’s visit to Ceylon as Duke of York in 1901. He was well known in sporting circles and a proprietary planter.
Professor S A Pakeman of the Ceylon university wrote of the son: “Bandaranaike was a clever young man, the only son of Sir Solomon Dias Bandaranaike, the Maha Mudaliyar, head of the leading upper-class family in the low-country. The Maha Mudaliyar was, technically, the ‘chief native interpreter’, a ceremonial position of great dignity. In this capacity he was closely connected for formal and ceremonial purposes with the Governors, and named his son `West Ridgeway’ after one of them.
“He was in fact a land owner on a large scale. His autobiography, Remembered Yesterdays, throws much light on the life and ways of thinking of his class. He was a man highly respected by people of all races.
“He sent his son to Christ Church College, Oxford, where he read Western classics and became Junior Treasurer of the Oxford Union, having a natural gift for speaking.
“On his return to Ceylon he entered municipal politics and then national politics. The way he was brought up meant that he had little acquaintance with the Sinhalese language but he made himself fluent in that tongue, though he admitted later that he could neither read nor write the script with any ease.
“His point of view differed completely from that of his father, and he became an enthusiastic nationalist, with emphasis on Sinhalese primacy.”
Dr. Howard Wriggins, a Professor from Princeton in the United States in his book Ceylon: Dilemma of a Nation, with less first-hand knowledge and depth of understanding wrote: “One fundamental rift within the UNP sprang from the problem of succession. When the Sinhala Maha Sabha was brought into the UNP, it was generally understood that Mr. Bandaranaike as second of the largest component of the UNP would succeed Mr. D. S. Senanayake who was expected to step down from the party leadership in the near future.
“But Mr. Senanayake did not step down. It became clear as time went on that Mr. Senanayake was not sure that the post should be reserved for Mr. Bandaranaike. On the contrary, it became clear that he was grooming his nephew, Major John Kotalawala, for the post instead. These manoeuvres were explicable as part of a long-standing competition between the Senanayake and Bandaranaike family clans.”
Dr. Wriggins continues that “there was little trust and confidence between them. Hence when the United National Party was formed, with Mr. D. S. Senanayake as the dominant figure, it was not surprising to those who knew the family background of these men that Mr. Bandaranaike should have been unwilling to subordinate himself to the elder Senanayake.
“On the other hand, Mr. Bandaranaike and others came to feel that the elder Senanayake did not trust Mr. Bandaranaike. It appeared that Mr. D. S. Senanayake kept foreign policy matters to himself, a circumstance already formalized in the Constitution in which the portfolio of External Affairs was merged with the office of the Prime Minister. With this interpretation in mind, it was not surprising that the Sinhala Maha Sabha, the creation of Bandaranaike, was not dissolved; nor was his resignation from the Cabinet in 1951 unexpected.”
Bandaranaike himself did not wish to separate the Ministry of External Affairs from that of the Prime Minister in 1956. Wriggins says in successive pages that “it became evident that he (Senanayake) was grooming his nephew” and that he “began to build up his son.” In fact his son was not interested in the post and, as Wriggins himself says, “finally accepted with reluctance and after much indecision.”
It would do less than justice to the memory of Senanayake and Bandaranaike to say that the break between the two leaders in 1951 was solely or largely due to family rivalries. They were both men of stature, devoted to the interests of the country but their background, make-up, intellectual processes and philosophy were different.
Bandaranaike was a remarkable speaker, apt to be carried away by the exuberance of his oratory, but he was skillful in drawing fine distinctions as when, after his resignation, it came to defining his position between the United National Party and the Marxists, both Trotskyites and Leninists, with whom he was ready to make electoral pacts to dethrone the UNP. As for Senanayake, although social reform and economic development were his aims, he was not known to have used the word ‘socialism’ and could not quite make out what Ceylonese speakers meant when they advocated ‘socialism.’
The respective contributions of Senanayake and Bandaranaike to the modern history of Ceylon were, in a sense, complementary. The older man won independence for Ceylon, gave the country stable government and a viable administrative machine and identified agriculture, especially food production, as the principal target of Ceylon’s economic development.
If anybody seeks a monument to Senanayake’s work in the sphere of agriculture he has only to look round and see the irrigation works he constructed and the hundreds and thousands of acres of new land he helped to bring under cultivation in the sparsely populated areas of Ceylon. He appreciated British political traditions and sought the friendship of the people of Great Britain and of the Dominions. He was a practical man, patient, clear-sighted, friendly and prone to estimate any project solely by its practical bearing on the interests of the common people in Ceylon.
Admirers have compared Senanayake and Bandaranaike with Patel and Nehru in India. Bandaranaike had Nehru’s educational background, the same western culture, the power of speech and egalitarian perspectives, a sheltered life before plunging into the political maelstrom and a vague vision of the future. Senanayake on the other hand, was like Patel, a man of action, with a deep knowledge of human nature and human weakness and a vision deeply grounded on the hard facts of life.
Though repeatedly he disclaimed Marxist doctrines, Bandaranaike’s politics were radical and had socialist overtones. He set out to build a new society which suited the genius of the Ceylonese people in the context of a changing world. To do this he had to take note of the new political status of the country.
In a speech shortly after his resignation, Bandaranaike said: “But how did freedom come? It came not after a fight upon definite principles. policies and programmes, but it really came in the normal course of events, that is, attempts to persuade Commissions sent from England to grant this little bit or that little bit extra; and finally, in the wake of freedom that was granted to countries like India, Pakistan and Burma. Our Soulbury Constitution was altered to extend to us the same type of Dominion Status. There was no fight for that freedom which involved a fight for principles, polices and programmes which could not be carried out unless that freedom was obtained. No. It just came overnight. We just woke up one day and we were told, ‘You are a Dominion now.
“What was the psychological effect that was created, particularly among those who in the previous 15 or 20 years had been working the other Constitution, who came into the free Parliament, many of whom became Ministers of this free Constitution? The psychological effect was to go along the same road. That was quite understandable. It did not involve any dishonesty or some deliberate wrong-doing on the part of any individual. That was the natural way one thought in those circumstances.
“It is quite easy, for instance if, after the Englishman has made a road, when he is driving his car along the road, he suddenly stops and says, ‘Well, look here my dear fellow, I am getting off this driving seat; you can sit there; I shall sit behind, for the driver to continue along the same road with the same thinking and acting in the same way.
“We are thinking on different planes, probably all of us bona fide. While one set of people were thinking on that line, another set were thinking quite differently. I, for instance, was thinking that freedom meant something much more than that, particularly that in the context of world affairs today this free country, with great difficulty and trouble, had to cut a new free road through the forest and to make its own vehicle travel along that final goal of prosperity and happiness which every free country has the right to expect. That was the psychology out of which this situation has arisen.”
Bandaranaike went on to say that the backbone of the Government from which he had resigned was “the reactionary capitalistic elements” and that “a tendency in the Cabinet system towards a form of dictatorship seems to have unquestionably developed.”
Bandaranaike was already mobilizing the various elements in the country dissatisfied with Senanayake’s domination of the Government and of Parliament. The argument that the UNP was supported mainly by reactionary capitalistic elements was a useful card to play when the poor were in a majority and had the power of the vote to overturn any Government. Bandaranaike foresaw that, in a developing country with a fast-growing population under a system of adult franchise, political power must necessarily pass to the masses.
“His own political future, as he saw it, depended on his ability to give leadership to the new generations of voters. In a speech made in the House of Representatives on July 30, 1952, he said: “The feudal system itself gave way and broadened out into what we understand as capitalist democracy. The small ruling feudal class broadened out into a plutocratic governing class, which was still large. The capitalist democracy is a thing that is dying hard. It has been dying since 1940. It is dying still – not quite dead yet.
“When you say that this is the age of the common man – a phrase I think was first used by Henry Wallace in the United States of America – that power is widening out into the hands of the people. I, who believe in democracy, would term it in this way: that capitalistic democracy is widening out into a people’s democracy. I am not using the word ‘democracy’ in a certain totalitarian sense that may be used by certain others. I am using the word ‘democracy’ in the true sense of the word and the entire emphasis today must be on the needs of the people. That is the position – the international position – of changes that are taking place, and in that context we obtained a large measure of political independence.
“The task, therefore, that faced us was two-fold: to convert socially, culturally, economically and administratively a colonial system into a free system and also to do it in a manner calculated to give effect to the second need of changing world conditions when the true needs of the people were attended to as a primary condition.”
Bandaranaike built his strength on a rural basis. Sinhala as the official language, a special position for Buddhism as the religion of the majority, the delegation of power to village councils and the magic word ‘socialism’ were the most effective weapons in his armoury. He was the most articulate politician of his time and found little difficulty in getting his message across. He drew into his fold the village school teacher, the ayurvedic (indigenous) medical practitioner and the ambitious and capable young politician who would otherwise have had to be content with a modest post as a Government clerk. The General Election of 1956 proved that his efforts had not been in vain and the successes of the political party he created after he had himself departed from the scene show that he had read the signs correctly and acted shrewdly and with prescience.
Bandaranaike was a master of retort. Once when a Communist leader in the State Council had attacked him and when the same member pretended to be asleep, when it was Bandaranaike’s turn to counter-attack, he turned to an interrupter and said “Let sleeping dogs lie!” On another occasion Dr. N. M. Peres the Trotskyite leader, during the Budget debate said that Bandaranaike could not help being merely the “famous son of a famous father.” The merciless retort by Bandaranaike alluded to his opponent as the “obscure son of a still more obscure father.”
Six bullets from an assassin’s weapon laid him low.
Features
Addressing human rights needs multi-pronged approach
by Jehan Perera
The ongoing 63rd session of the United Nations Human Rights Council, which runs from September 7 to October 7, 2026, in Geneva is important to Sri Lanka. Its outcome will send a signal to other international actors, including the European Union, as to whether Sri Lanka’s reform policy is on track. The written update on Sri Lanka, prepared by the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights under High Commissioner Volker Türk and presented by Deputy High Commissioner Nada Al-Nashif, has taken a more holistic approach to the government’s performance over the past year. It acknowledged the progress Sri Lanka has made under the NPP government in relation to accountability for financial fraud and other economic crimes. At the same time, the High Commissioner’s update made clear that progress in relation to economic crime cannot be equated with progress in relation to accountability for grave human rights violations committed during the armed conflict and in other periods of political violence.
The government may have felt sufficiently confident that its response to the High Commissioner’s update could be handled by its representative in Geneva and did not require the attendance of Foreign Minister Vijitha Herath. Sri Lanka’s representative Sumith Dassanayake called for a fundamental review of country-specific mandates within the UN Human Rights Council. Sri Lanka has been facing repeated scrutiny in the form of successive UNHRC resolutions from 2012 onwards. Ambassador Dassanayake argued that such mandates should not continue indefinitely and must be regularly assessed against measurable objectives and tangible outcomes. This may reflect confidence that its record of reform is beginning to receive recognition internationally. The reports and statements at the Human Rights Council acknowledged progress in the government’s efforts to address corruption and economic crime.
The government’s anti-corruption drive has included investigations into allegations involving individuals who held the highest political offices in the country. The arrest of former President Ranil Wickremesinghe in connection with alleged misuse of public funds, and the investigation into the controversial SriLankan Airlines Airbus transaction involving former President Mahinda Rajapaksa’s son, are examples of the reach of these investigations. The arrest of SLPP National Organiser and Member of Parliament Namal Rajapaksa in connection with allegations relating to the Airbus purchase scandal has also demonstrated that the government is willing to pursue cases involving politically powerful figures.
Wide Range
The ongoing investigations appear to encompass a wide range of parliamentarians and government members, both past and present. They suggest that accountability for corruption is not being confined to lower-level officials or to individuals who lack political influence. This is precisely the kind of accountability that the public has long demanded and that previous governments have too often failed to deliver. The government is also reaching into the upper levels of the military hierarchies of the past. The case in which 11 young men, most of them Tamil, disappeared after being abducted in Colombo between 2008 and 2009 involved allegations that some families were asked to pay ransoms. The investigation into this case has reached senior military figures. The willingness to pursue such cases is important because it challenges the assumption that those who exercised power during the war are beyond the reach of the law. Such cases would provide a practical test of whether the government’s commitment to accountability for economic crimes is part of a broader commitment to the rule of law.
Success in prosecuting corruption cannot substitute for justice for those who were unlawfully killed, disappeared, tortured or otherwise victimised. The UN report noted that there had been no recognition or accountability for crimes under international law, gross human rights violations and serious violations of international humanitarian law committed by all parties during the war. The government has yet to establish a credible and effective process to address the many cases of enforced disappearance, extrajudicial killing, torture and other serious violations. The government needs to take the international commitments it has inherited on human rights issues seriously. It needs to adopt a multi-pronged approach and go beyond focusing primarily on financial and corruption-related accountability.
Need Action
As a member of the international community, Sri Lanka has a responsibility to abide by the commitments it has made. It cannot selectively uphold international obligations postponing those that are politically difficult. Also, as a small country, Sri Lanka has a self-interest in ensuring the survival of international law, which is all that it has to protect it from the depredations of the bigger international actors. The erosion of international law by powerful states makes it all the more important that smaller states uphold the principles on which the international system is based. Sri Lanka cannot credibly appeal to international law when it is threatened from outside while disregarding its own obligations within. Sri Lanka also needs to win the confidence of its own population that it is committed to justice and equality for all. Public opinion polls and community-level research have disclosed that ethnic and religious minorities are appreciative of the sense of greater security they enjoy under the present government from ethnic or religious extremists.
But a sense of security is not the same as the fulfilment of rights. As far as the Tamil people are concerned, the government has yet to deliver on several of its specific promises. These include the long-standing problems of missing persons, the release of political prisoners who have been members of Tamil militant organisations, and the return of land taken over for military purposes during the war. The issue of Buddhist statues and archaeological sites found on their properties which are then taken from their control continue to trouble them especially as they see no signs of resolution of those disputes. The issue of pastureland in the east of the country in Mylathamadu is particularly concerning to them as they see orders by successive presidents, both President Ranil Wickremesinghe and President Anura Kumara Dissanayake, being disregarded on the ground. The Mylathamadu pastureland dispute is where traditional Tamil dairy farmers have engaged in multi-year protests against the ongoing encroachment of their ancestral grazing lands by Sinhalese crop cultivators relocated under government development schemes.
The government’s failure to hold Provincial Council elections is particularly troubling. The provincial council system is the only one that can provide the Tamil people and other ethnic minorities the opportunity to wield political power and exercise a measure of self-determination in the areas in which they are the numerical majority. The continued postponement of Provincial Council elections therefore has consequences that go beyond an ordinary electoral delay. It deprives communities of an important constitutional avenue for democratic participation and power-sharing. The ethnic and religious minorities appreciate what the government is doing in the larger national interest, but they must not be made to feel that their special concerns are being ignored. The government cannot resolve Sri Lanka’s entire legacy of rights violations overnight. But it does need to demonstrate that it is willing to move forward on multiple fronts, not only on a few.
Features
The emptying university: why are academics leaving?
by Hasini Lecamwasam
Brain drain in Sri Lanka is at an all-time high. The latest Human Flight and Brain Drain Index for 2024 shows that we are 16th of 175 countries on this count, and first in South Asia. That this is a crisis goes without saying. Brain drain affects all sectors, and is a huge strain on the resources of a developing country. Particularly in Sri Lanka, where considerable public investment is made in the moulding of professionals through the system of free education, this amounts to transferring the resources of poorer countries to richer ones with top migration destinations. It is, therefore, important to consider the push and pull factors behind skilled outmigration, specifically from the public university system of Sri Lanka, a key focus of the Kuppi column.
From frustration to exit
Several bitter realities in our crumbling public university system act as push factors in the migration decisions of academics. Many essays on this column have, over several years, attempted to highlight numerous aspects of this erosion. Perhaps, primary among them is the lack of adequate funding, which has debilitating ramifications for the system: very little investment is made in the up-keep of infrastructure (and even less in its expansion), resulting in serious constraints in accommodating growing batches of students and the wellbeing of the staff (particularly in regional universities); research funding is negligible, severely curtailing academics’ ability to effectively discharge their primary duty of teaching which should ideally be informed by their research (and the research of others, access to which is also, unfortunately, mediated by funding); a funding crunch also means a slash in (or greater constraints on) recruitments, increasing the workloads of academics, currently in service, and eating into the quality of their teaching and research.
What recruitments are done frustrate those with any faith in merit. As many of our interventions in this column have shown, recruitment processes are characterised by archaic selection criteria that place very little weight on a candidate’s postgraduate growth and the advantages of interdisciplinary training. Added to this is the general preference for ‘culturally compliant’ candidates who would not rock the boat too much. The combined effect is that those with the capacity and spirit to try out innovations in education are discouraged from joining or staying on in the public university system. Some, or many, of them may instead seek appointments abroad.
A thread that binds all of these problems together is pervasive hierarchy which, again, many interventions on this column have sought to highlight. It is the interest in preserving hierarchy that leads to the preference for alumni in recruitment processes. Hierarchy within universities can be particularly frustrating for younger faculty and women, who typically have to bear the brunt of the workload of their senior, often male, colleagues. In a context of funding, and, therefore, recruitment, restrictions, this translates into a disproportionate burden being placed on junior (usually female) faculty, seriously hindering their prospects of growing into successful academics due to the time constraints within which they have to operate. Junior academics, therefore, are more likely to look to educational institutions abroad for what they hope would be a different work culture that respects them more.
Ideological ruses
On top of these structural frustrations are also the workings of neoliberal ideology. For one, the nature of relations between the global metropole and peripheral countries like Sri Lanka largely dictates what is desirable and what is not. The apparent lifestyles of Western countries – from food to clothing, housing, appliances, and so on – have continued to lure people from the periphery with the promise of a ‘better’ life, alongside better career advancement opportunities. This, of course, masks much of the struggle that goes on behind the scenes to survive in Western societies. For instance, in most cases highly attractive public infrastructure such as roads, public transport, clean air, quality control of food, and so on belie the astronomical privatised costs of healthcare and education. Health insurance is usually mandatory and steep in most high-income settings, while even subsidised education (for which eligibility criteria are strict) creates a serious dent in household earnings. Of course, the happy images of glossy trams and gleeful international travellers don’t convey this.
A second ideological ruse is the myth of greater opportunities and recognition abroad. While there is no denying that local skilled sectors – be it higher education, health, civil service, or private white-collar positions – are replete with issues that inhibit merit-based professional advancement, the notion that things are fundamentally different in Western countries stems from an uninformed optimism. As is now increasingly known and discussed, Western labour markets are notoriously racialised, and equivalent skills are rarely treated as such. Instead, it is usually demanded that skilled migrants clear certain formal examinations in their host countries. In fields like medicine, this is followed by an interview that may also be racially prejudiced. Once these initial steps are cleared, remuneration reverts to square one irrespective of experience accumulated abroad, not to mention the many subtle aggressions, rejections, and trials one has to go through in the negotiation of everyday life. In the many cases where professional qualifications are used as leverage for a move abroad, sights are set on a better future for one’s children, which again is informed by the misplaced faith in greater opportunities and a lack of awareness of the factors outlined above. Needless to say, in the global swing to the Right, things have become even more challenging. In such a context, considering the few rare cases where skilled migrants live extremely comfortable lives as the norm becomes a dangerous misconception.
The two ideological pull factors mentioned above are complemented by a push factor, which has to do with a highly classed understanding of what a white-collar professional is due in their society. Many of these aspirations are clearly articulated in academic trade union action demanding separate quotas for school entry, increased fuel allowances, winning back the presently stalled vehicle permit scheme, salary hikes, and so on. While working people have every right to agitate for better material conditions, insofar as it remains unconnected to a broader movement for improving the conditions of the lot of the working class, it remains self-serving and very much within the class logic of capitalist society. Since these demands are articulated as a means of maintaining distinction, it is clear that they are not envisaged as part of a class movement. The frustration of not having these needs for distinction satisfied may push some to seek greener pastures abroad, at least financially, (perhaps as a means of social mobility based on it), only to be disappointed on most occasions.
What is to be done?
Addressing the systemic push factors listed above requires, first and foremost, greater allocations for free public higher education. This would immediately translate into more recruitments and less work per academic, and better research and teaching in the long haul. An increase in funding would also ideally lead to greater infrastructural investments, especially including improving the living conditions of those who work in regional universities amid untold hardships. Next, fairer, more creative, and, therefore, more effective recruitment policies are badly needed to attract talented individuals to university positions. Rather than carving out a ‘special category’ for academics to achieve this purpose, which is informed by a classed logic, this needs to be done through fundamental reforms in recruitment processes. Third, a persistent attack on the entrenched hierarchy within universities through internal reform is much called for. Reforming recruitment practices will go a long way towards addressing this. Measures should also be taken to introduce more stringent policies against SGBV (not to mention ragging, even though it is not directly connected to brain drain). Such measures would create a safer, fairer, and more attractive workplace, which would give more reasons for people to stay.
On top of greater allocations, we also need a transformation of our aspirations themselves if this situation is to change. That necessitates a kind of education capable of questioning the ‘paradise’ conception of Western societies, and lays bare their colonial material and ideological dimensions, in both their historical and contemporary manifestations. These colonial understandings of the ‘good life’, moreover, have devastating ecological implications for the planet, not to mention social justice. An education with the ability to transform this mindset would hopefully prove to be more than a mere path to social mobility, rather being a tool of social emancipation that renders mobility moot.
(Hasini Lecamwasam is with the Department of Political Science, University of Peradeniya)
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
Features
Friends favourite Suzi Croner returns for Oktoberfest 2026
Charming audiences in Switzerland as Suzi Flückiger, Sri Lanka’s own Suzi Croner is coming home… for a very special occasion.
The bubbly former frontline vocalist of 90s band Friends will take the stage at a popular venue in Colombo for Oktoberfest 2026.
Known in Europe for her country and classic hits, Suzi has remained a much-loved name back home. This will be a rare chance for local fans to see her live and celebrate the voice behind so many Friends memories.
Oktoberfest 2026 in Colombo promises an evening of live music, traditional Bavarian food and beer, colourful dirndls and lederhosen, folk dancing, and plenty of community cheer.

Suzi Croner (Flückiger)
Against this lively backdrop, Suzi will take the stage for a special solo set, featuring her own pre-recorded music. She performed at the event last year too, as a solo artiste, but a German band providing the music.
This year, however she says, it’s a different scene.
“The novel attraction will be the dancers from Germany — all girls, clad in German outfits,” Suzi said. She added that the event will also highlight the activities generally connected with Oktoberfest, which should generate a lot of fun and excitement for those who join her in Colombo next month.
Suzi has become a much-in-demand artiste in Europe, and has even performed Down Under, in Melbourne.
In Switzerland, where she has been based for the past 42 years, she continues to charm audiences with country and classic hits, performing at private events and community nights across Europe.
“My weekends are generally loaded with my work as a singer,” she said. “And I also play tennis three times a week, because I need to keep fit to entertain my audience in an active way.”
Her repertoire is made up mainly of Swiss, German and English songs.
And true to form, Suzi loves springing surprises.
“So watch out when you join me at Oktoberfest 2026, in Colombo!” she said.
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