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Sandesaya founder J. V. Fonseka: silent and unsung scholar-patriot

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Founder of BBC’s Sandesaya which made one of the earliest Sinhalese broadcasts possible over British radio and the first Deputy Editor of the Sinhala Encyclopaedia- J.V. Fonseka had no parallels. Yet his contribution to Sri Lanka’s cultural firmament is sadly unsung. Sunday Island revisits the life and work of this gentle giant unknown to many today.

by Randima Attygalle

Prof. G.P. Malalasekera in his testimonial of his exceptionally gifted student J.V. Fonseka who graduated in 1931 from the Ceylon University College, stated: “academically, Mr. Fonseka is one of the best qualified of our graduates because, besides his knowledge of Pali and Sanskrit and allied cultures and civilizations, he has made a very good study of the Western classics and has read widely in many fields of learning.” The Principal of the Ceylon University College (present University of Colombo), Robert Marrs endorsed, “I have personally come into contact with his English which is of an unusually high quality… I can recommend him for a favourable consideration in any capacity in which his knowledge of the Eastern Classical languages and of Sinhalese and English will find a place.”

Marrs went on to say he sincerely hoped that whatever profession Fonseka selects, “he will find opportunities of bringing his language gifts to bear on inter-lingual problems of scholarship and literature.” This, J.V. Fonseka or JV/ JVF or ‘Fons’ as he came to be known among diverse circles, proved true.

Joseph Vincent Fonseka was born in Wewala, Piliyandala on May 29, 1908. He came from a long line of teachers of the Wanniarachchi and Samarakoon families of Kotte. His mother, Martha Alwis Samarakoon, was the headmistress of the Horetuduwa Maha Vidyalaya. His uncle was the well-known educationalist H.S. Perera and his cousin, the composer of the national anthem- Ananda Samarakoon. He entered Prince of Wales College Moratuwa from Horetuduwa Buddhist School, and later Ceylon University College. He passed his Inter-Arts Examination in 1926 in Latin, English, Sinhala and Logic. JV’s association with Kumaratunga Munidasa kindled his interest in Pali and Sanskrit which eventually made him lose interest in Latin and Greek. Having read for his B.A. Hons. Degree in Indo-Aryan Studies, JV won an open exhibition at the Final Examination which enabled him to go to England for his post-graduate studies.

Manel Tampoe writing to The Ceylon Daily News in July, 1979 after his death (on May 30, 1979) notes that ‘he belonged to a very small band of university men who in the 1920s, opted to swim against the tide and specialize in Sinhala and the oriental classics, when the majority devoted their energies to mastering Latin and Greek in addition to English.’ She notes that ‘in Mr. Fonseka’s case the choice was doubly remarkable, because he was very proficient in English from the outset…’

JV’s PhD research in the London University was on the Sinhala verb. His supervisor was Prof. R.L. Turner. Although he subsequently studied law, he never completed his finals. His stay in England extended to 23 years, out of which 15 were spent with the BBC. “My father was told he had got his BBC job on my birthday, March 18, 1942,” recounts his eldest daughter, Manel Fonseka. JV’s work at the BBC began with a bi-weekly newsletter- a commentary in Sinhalese on all aspects of British life and institutions and on matters affecting his home country, Ceylon, as viewed in the British press. Sandesaya which was broadcast over BBCs Eastern Service was founded by him shortly after the country gained Independence.

Prof. K.N.O Dharmadasa in his work on JV under the title- ‘The scholar who shunned the limelight: J.V. Fonseka’ in The Island, May 21, 1993, notes that the weekly broadcast from London was received by Radio Ceylon and relayed here every Tuesday evening. ‘It catered to the interests of the expatriates as well as the home listener. Tastefully selected Sinhala folk music added to the programme while its highlight was the London Liyuma or London Letter’ written and delivered by JVF.’ In JVs’ own words, Sandesaya ‘won a coveted popularity among Sinhalese listeners’. Comprising features, discussions, interviews, answers to listeners’ questions, into London Letter ‘were drawn week after week, Ceylonese of all walks of life from cooks and seamen to professors and prime minister, but more especially university students and teachers. I had thus maintained close and unbroken contact with Ceylon students.’

“My father began to lose his hair quite early and was not happy about it.  He adapted something that Krishna Menon wore. He wore a cap outside and a black beret at home. (JV came to know Krishna Menon when supporting the Indian independence movement). My father used to travel to Bush House where the Overseas Section of the BBC was, by tube to Oxford Circus and walk from there. Every morning he’d cross paths with an Englishman who greeted him with “Salaam alai kum”.  And my father simply responded “Alaikum salaam”. Just that, nothing more.

“The traditionally reserved Englishman was extending a warm hand of respect and friendship. And my father never disabused him, nor did it bother him being taken for a Muslim. Incidentally, there were several Muslim and Tamil law students sharing a house with him in my earliest years, one or two of whom became quite famous here.  Crossette Thambiah was one who became a very close friend,” recollects Manel who goes on to add that her father used to interview many visiting Ceylonese icons such as Dr. Lester James Peries, L.T.P Manjusri, Deva Suriyasena, J.R. Jayewardene and many more. She also recounts that the celebrated artist Manjusri later did five paintings for the Fonseka family. “He also had friends through the BBC such as Paul Robeson, Dylan Thomas and Walter de La Mare.”

J.V. Fonseka, Manel Tampoe documents, ‘possessed the sophistication of outlook that made him acceptable to an institution such as the BBC’. Through his programme Sandesaya, he was ‘instrumental in influencing the style of many programmes of the old Radio Ceylon, by providing a model in such respect as dignified yet pleasantly informal tone and suitable diction and intonation,’ says the writer. JV is also credited for having deposited in London, every Sinhalese song that had been recorded here at home. Many songs which have disappeared forever from the Sri Lankan musical firmament have been preserved in London in the collection JV painstakingly built.

Thevis Guruge, Director General of the SLBC at the time of JV’s demise, who spoke at the funeral, remarked: ‘It was Mr. Fonseka who first conceived and put into practice the way to make a Sinhalese radio programme popular amongst listeners. He also made recordings of Sinhalese folk music and various other media, putting them into BBC archives; in this, he performed a valuable service.” Dr. J. Thilakasiri in a letter to JV in 1950 wrote, ‘having heard your newsletter consecutively for several weeks, I found that your style was easy and natural in contrast to the bombastic tone of the announcers of Radio Ceylon. The Oriental section here is in a mess and the quality of the programmes and talks is poor. So I didn’t hesitate to write to the Head of the Eastern Service (BBC) saying how useful the programme is and mentioning your fine newsletter etc. ending with the suggestion for providing an additional half-hour. A friend of mine- a lecturer in Sinhalese at the Varsity also finds your programme and talks interesting and refreshing in contrast to what we get here.’

In keeping with his “very retiring and self-effacing nature and extremely modest character,” daughter Manel notes, a great deal of her father’s writing was published anonymously. “At some stage he began sending articles, poetry, etc., to the press. In 1955, when we returned to Sri Lanka from England, my father’s close cousin, Ananda Samarakoon, told me that he and his brother Cyril, used to hang on the railings by Lake House on days they were expected to appear! He sometimes used the pen-name, ‘Enoch’. I think that must be an echo of Tennyson’s poem, Enoch Arden.” Her father wit

h ‘such a beautiful voice’ which Manel and her siblings were hardly conscious of as children, gifted to them the love of language. “In our childhood he read French, German and Italian to us. And my sisters remember, even now, some of the poetry of Goethe and Rainer Maria Rilke.”

The coming together of her father and English mother, Lily Margaret Walker, 102 today, is rather extraordinary, says Manel. A blue-eyed blonde Lily was in her Women’s Auxiliary Airforce (WAAF) uniform on a station platform in 1939 when JV first saw her. “My mother was born in 1919 in London, daughter of an army officer. She was the eldest of five children and was taken out of school and set to work to help support four siblings. As the war was on the horizon she joined the WAAF. My father, usually reserved, but perhaps encouraged by the slight defrosting of the English during the tensions of war, was struck by this blonde, blue-eyed, young woman, standing all alone, went up to her and asked her what her uniform was. At the time my father was working at the London Auxiliary Ambulance Service where all students had to register to be available for assistance for air raid precaution.”

When it was learnt in Ceylon that JV would be leaving the BBC, Prof. D.E. Hettiarachchi, Chief Editor of the Sinhala Encyclopaedia immediately canvassed for him to be invited to be the Deputy Editor. Having heard of the paradise of his childhood, Ceylon was a dream for his England-born children. “Both we and he were rudely awakened when we actually came,” recollects Manel. She adds that at first her father rejected the idea of returning home when the invitation came, but her mother who had heard such wonderful things about the country for years, urged him to take it up. “I was devastated at the idea of leaving everything I knew and loved. Plus, we had just seen Elephant Walk and I thought cholera stalked the country. But it was decided. My father wrote and accepted, said when exactly he would be arriving and that he would report to work the next day which he did! And then began a very difficult time for all of us.”

Crowds gathered to welcome JV of Sandesaya fame at the Colombo harbour when he arrived with his family in 1955. As JV’s wife Lily who was fondly called ‘Nikki’ recounted in her communication years later, ‘every relative who could make the journey to Colombo was either on the ship or waiting dockside. Press and Radio were there in force. We were garlanded.’ Among the bevy of relatives was Ananda Samarakoon to greet the family so warmly, says Manel. “My father started work the very next day and my mother and the three children were left with his sister in her house in Kotte which appeared to be a jungle to us at that time! Having been wrenched from everything familiar to us in England, we suffered culture shock for quite a while. The bright side was when the Sinhala Encyclopaedia office was transferred to the glorious Peradeniya campus.”

The Sinhala Encyclopaedia became JVs life. ‘If one were to drop in at the Encyclopaedia office at any time of the day, even during lunch or tea breaks, he was invariably seated at his desk,’ documents Prof. K.N.O. Dharmadasa, recollecting his Peradeniya days in the late 50s and 60s when the Sinhala Encyclopaedia was housed in the back rooms of an old building which had been used by the South Asia Command during the war. ‘JVF joined the Sinhala Encyclopaedia when he was 47-years old. His maturity in age, learning and experience would have enhanced the quality of his contribution to the project.’

Prof. H.L. Seneviratne, an assistant editor at the Encyclopaedia who was supervised by JV, writing to Manel Fonseka notes that JV expected ‘stellar performance’ from all assistant editors who specialized in different fields, but never used any compulsion. ‘He was the gentlest of supervisors, and had profound confidence in his assistant editors He himself was deeply committed to work and cheerfully embraced the task of going through and editing the writings of each and every assistant editor, not to mention the commissioned articles from outside specialists. Personally he was extremely kind to his employees ranging from the assistant editors to minor employees.’

Prof. Seneviratne further notes that the only personal matter he recalls JV mentioning to him, ‘which he did with sadness and a sense of rightly felt injustice,’ was the government’s decision to change the opening line of the national anthem composed by his cousin. Ananda Samarakoon’s death soon after was attributed to this act of the government done for superstitious reasons – Namo namo maatha was changed to Sri Lanka maatha in the belief that the former was ‘inauspicious’. “Knowing my father’s complete lack of superstition, I am certain he was disgusted and probably angry about the changing of the original words,” says Manel.

In 1973, although JV retired as the Deputy Editor at 65, after many extensions, he continued to be an external editor up to his death. In November, 1973, Prof. D.E. Hettiarachchi, Chief Editor, wrote to Dr N.M. Perera, the Minister of Finance, urging a further extension. ‘It is by no means easy to find a substitute for Mr. Fonseka… it is men of Mr. Fonseka’s calibre whom we should have on the editorial staff of an encyclopaedia.’

JV who was responsible for most of the actual work of the Sinhala Encyclopaedia was lauded for his ‘singular devotion’ by many of his colleagues. D. P. Ponnamperuma who had worked under him for many years as Senior Assistant Editor wrote: ‘He was not an administrator of service but an example of service. He cared little for his own rights, higher wages or security of service and we now recall instances when he faced even criticism on account of this…Until he was bed-ridden he carried the Sinhala Encyclopaedia not only in his heart but on his shoulders too.

‘One could say there isn’t a single article in the Sinhala Encylopaedia that had not been vetted by his pen. The loss his death left for the Sinhala Encyclopaedia is irreparable. It must be said that the whole nation is indebted to Mr. Fonseka for the success of this project. Educated Sinhala society should deeply regret its failure to show appreciation and felicitate the services of this silent patriotic scholar during his lifetime and it would be at least some consolation if the name of Mr. J.V Fonseka be immortalized with an honorary award or title even posthumously.’

Sadly, the nation is yet to see this unsung hero celebrated in the manner he truly deserved.

 

(Photo credit: Manel Fonseka)



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Federalism and paths to constitutional reform

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Chelvanayakam (R) and S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike shaking hands.

S. J. V. Chelvanayakam: Visionary and Statesman

S. J. V. Chelvanayakam KC Memorial Lecture Delivered at Jaffna Central Collage on Sunday, 26 April, by Professor G. L. Peiris – D. Phil. (Oxford), Ph. D. (Sri Lanka); Rhodes Scholar, Quondam Visiting Fellow of the Universities of Oxford, Cambridge and London; Former Vice-Chancellor and Emeritus Professor of Law of the University of Colombo.

I. Life and Career

Had Mr. Chelvanayakam been with us today, he would no doubt be profoundly unhappy with the state of our country and the world.

Samuel James Velupillai Chelvanayakam was born on 31 March, 1898, in the town of Ipoh, in Malaya. When he was four years of age, he was sent by his father, along with his mother, for the purpose of his education to Tellippalai, a traditional village at the northern tip of Sri Lanka, or Ceylon as the country was then called, in close proximity to the port of Kankesanturai. He attended three schools, Union College in Tellippalai, St John’s College Jaffna and S. Thomas’ College Mount Lavinia, where he was a contemporary of S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike, with whom he was later destined to sign the Bandaranaike-Chelvanayakam Pact.

He graduated in Science as an external student of the University of London, in 1918. In 1927, he married Emily Grace Barr-Kumarakulasinghe, daughter of the Maniyagar, or administrative chief for the area, appointed by the colonial government. He had four sons and a daughter. His son, S. C. Chandrahasan, worked closely with me during my time as Foreign Minister on the subject of repatriation of refugees from India. Chandrahasan’s wife, Nirmala, daughter of Dr. E. M. V. Naganathan, was a colleague of mine on the academic staff of the University of Colombo.

Mr. Chelvanayakam first contested the Kankesanturai constituency at the parliamentary election of 1947. His was a long parliamentary career. He resigned from his parliamentary seat in opposition to the first Republican Constitution of 1972, but was re-elected overwhelmingly at a by-election in 1975. He died on 26 April, 1977.

There are many strong attributes which shine through his life and career.

He consistently showed courage and capacity for endurance. He had no hesitation in resigning from employment, which gave him comfort and security, to look after a younger brother who was seriously ill. As his son-in-law, Professor A.J. Wilson remarked, he learned to move in two worlds: a product of missionary schools, he was a devout Christian who never changed his religion for political gain. He was, quite definitely, a Hindu by culture, and never wished to own a house in Colombo for fear that his children would be alienated from their roots.

Gentle and self-effacing by disposition, he manifested the steel in his character by not flinching from tough decisions. Never giving in to expediency, differences of principle with Mr. G. G. Ponnambalam, the leader of the All Ceylon Tamil Congress, of which Mr. Chelvanayakam was a principal organiser, led him to break away from the Congress and to form a new party, the Ilankai Tamil Arasu Kachchi, or the Federal Party.

During the disturbances in March and April, 1958, he was charged in the Magistrate’s Court in Batticaloa and sentenced to a week’s imprisonment. He was also subject to house arrest, but he never resorted to violence and used satyagraha to make his voice heard. When, in 1961, he was medically advised to travel to the United Kingdom for surgical treatment, he had to be escorted to the airport by the police because he was still under detention. Although physically frail and ailing in health during his final years, he lost none of the indomitable spirit which typified his entire life.

II. Advocacy of Federalism: Origins and Context

At the core of political convictions he held sacrosanct was his unremitting commitment to federalism. A moment of fruition in his life was the formation of the Federal Party, Ilankai Tamil Arasu Kachchi, on 18 December, 1949.

Contrary to popular belief, however, federalism in our country had its origin in issues which were not connected with ethnicity. At its inception, this had to do with the aspirations, not of the Tamils, but of the Kandyan Sinhalese. The Kandyan National Assembly, in its representations to the Donoughmore Commission, in November, 1927, declared: “Ours is not a communal claim or a claim for the aggrandizement of a few. It is the claim of a nation to live its own life and realise its own destiny”.

Mr. S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike, soon after his return from Oxford, as a prominent member of the Ceylon National Congress, was an ardent advocate of federalism. He went so far as to characterise federalism as “the only solution to our political problems”. With Thomas Hobbes in his famous work, The Leviathan, he conceived of liberty as “political power broken into fragments”. Bandaranaike went on to state in a letter published in The Morning Leader on 19 May, 1926: “The two clashing forces of cooperation and individualism, like that thread of golden light which Walter Pater observed in the works of the painters of the Italian Renaissance, run through the fabric of civilisation, sometimes one predominating, sometimes the other. To try and harmonise the two has been the problem of the modern world. The only satisfactory solution yet discovered is the federal system”.

Federalism had a strong ideological appeal, from a Marxist-Leninist perspective. The constitutional proposals, addressed by the Communist Party of Ceylon to the Ceylon National Congress on 18 October, 1944, go very far indeed. They envisioned the Sinhalese and the Tamils as two distinct “nations” or “historically evolved nationalities”. The high watermark of the proposals was the assertion that “Both nationalities have their right to self-determination, including the right, if they so desire, to form their own separate independent state”.

These proposals received further elaboration in a memorandum submitted to the Working Committee of the Ceylon National Congress by two leading members of the Communist Party, Mr. Pieter Keuneman and Mr. A. Vaidialingam. Their premise was set out pithily as follows: “We regard a nation as a historical, as opposed to an ethnographical, concept. It is a historically evolved, stable community of people living in a contiguous territory as their traditional homeland”.

The Soulbury Commission, which arrived in the country in December, 1944, had no hesitation in recognising that “The relations of the minorities – the Ceylon Tamils, the Indian Tamils, Muslims, Burghers and Europeans, with the Sinhalese majority – present the most difficult of the many problems involved in the reform of the Constitution of Ceylon”.

They took fully into account the apprehension expressed by the All Ceylon Tamil Congress that “The near approach of the complete transfer of power and authority from neutral British hands to the people of this country is causing, in the minds of the Tamil people, in common with other minorities, much misgiving and fear”.

III. Constitutional Provisions at Independence

The Souldbury Commission, like the Donoughmore Commission before it, was not friendly to the idea of federalism, principally because of their commitment to the unity of the body politic. Opting for a solution, falling short of federalism, they adopted the approach that, if the underlying fear related to encroachment on seminal rights by capricious legislative action, this anxiety could be convincingly assuaged by enshrining in the Constitution a nucleus of rights placed beyond the reach of the legislature.

The essence of the solution, which commended itself to the Soulbury Commission, was a carefully crafted constitutional limitation on the legislative competence of Parliament, encapsulated in Article 29(2) of the Independence Constitution. The gist of this was incorporation of the principle of non-discrimination against racial or religious communities by explicit acknowledgement of equal protection under the law.

The assumption fortifying this expectation was the attribution of an imaginative role to the judiciary in respect of interpretation. It was lack of fulfillment in this regard that precipitated a setback which time could not heal. Judicial attitudes, including those of the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, which constituted at the time the highest tier of the judicial hierarchy, were timid and diffident.

When the Citizenship Act of 1948, by means of a new definition, sought to deprive Tamils of Indian origin of the suffrage, no protection was forthcoming from the courts on the ground of impermissible discrimination. This refusal of intervention was premised on an implausibly narrow construction of the word “community”, in that, according to the Courts’ reasoning, in the landmark case of Kodakkan Pillai v. Madanayake, Indian Tamils were not identifiable as a community distinct from the larger community of the Tamils of Ceylon. It is hard to disguise the reality that this was, at bottom, a refusal to deal with the substantive issues candidly and frontally.

The resulting vulnerability of minority rights, which judicial evasion laid bare, was a major contributory cause of the erosion of confidence on the part of minority groups. This mood of suspicion and despair, arising from an ostensibly weak method of protection of human rights, presaged ensuing developments.

IV. Further Quest for a Constitutional Solution

Chelvanayakam

The central theme of this lecture, in honour of a statesman who was an epitome of restraint and moderation, is that the deterioration of ethnic relations, which culminated in a war of unrivalled savagery over a span of three decades, was progressive and incremental. There was no inevitability about the denouement. It was gradual and potentially reversible. At several crucial points, there was opportunity to arrest a disastrous trend. These windows of opportunity, however, were not utilised: extremist attitudes asserted themselves, and polarisation became the outcome. This trajectory was, no doubt, met with dismay by far-sighted leaders of the calibre of Mr. Chelvanayakam.

The formation of the Federal Party was a turning point. With Mr. S.J.V. Chelvanayakam, King’s Counsel, as founder-president, and Dr. E.M.V. Naganathan and Mr. V. Navaratnam as joint secretaries, the party embarked on a journey which marked a radical departure from the conventional thinking of the past. This was plain from the text of seven resolutions adopted at the national convention of the party held in Trincomalee in April, 1951. The foundation of these resolutions was the call to establish a Tamil state within the Union of Ceylon, and the uncompromising assertion that no other solution was feasible.

The path was now becoming manifest. The demand up to now had been for substantial power sharing within a unitary state. This was now giving way to a strident demand for the emergence of a federal structure, destined to be expanded in the fullness of time to advocacy of secession.

Although standing out boldly as a landmark in constitutional evolution, the Federal Party resolutions did not carry on their face the hallmark of finality or immutability. The call of the Tamil leadership for secession yet being some years away, the ensuing decades saw further attempts by different governments to resolve the vexed issues around power sharing.

The first of these was the Bandaranaike-Chelvanayakam pact, signed by the Prime Minister and the leader of the Federal Party on 26 July, 1957. There was an air of uneasy compromise surrounding the entire transaction. This was evident from the structure of the pact, which, as one of its integral parts, contained a section not reduced to writing in any form, but consisting of a series of informal understandings.

The essence of the pact was the proposed system of regional councils which were envisaged as an intermediary tier between the central government and local government institutions. This did break new ground. Not only did the pact confer on the people of the North and East a substantial measure of self-governance through these innovative councils, including in such inherently controversial areas as colonisation, irrigation and local management, but territorial units were conceived of as the recipients of devolved powers. Of particular significance, the regional councils were to be invested with some measure of financial autonomy. The blowback, however, was so intense as to compel the government to abrogate the pact.

The next attempt, eight years later, was by the United National Party, which had vehemently opposed the Bandaranaike–Chelvanayakam Pact. This was the Dudley Senanayake–Chelvanayakam Pact, signed between the leader of the United National Party, at the time Leader of the Opposition, and the leader of the Federal Party. It differed from the Bandaranaike–Chelvanayakam Pact, both contextually and substantively.

As to context, it was signed on 24 March, 1965, on the eve of a parliamentary election, to ensure for the United National Party the support of the Federal Party. A disheartening feature was the plainly evident element of duplicity. Once in government, the Prime Minister’s party showed little interest in implementing the pact. Within three years, the Federal Party left the government, and its representative in the cabinet, Mr M. Tiruchelvam QC, Minister of Local Government, relinquished his portfolio.

Substantively, the lynchpin of the pact was a system of district councils, but there was entrenched control of these bodies by the central government, even in regard to action within their vires. This was almost universally seen as a sleight of hand.

Despite the collapse of these efforts, room for resilience and accommodation had by no means disappeared. Nowhere is this better exemplified than in the events which led up to the drafting and adoption of the “autochthonous” Constitution of 1972. This involved the historic task of severing the centuries-old bond with the British Crown and bringing into being the Republic of Sri Lanka.

One of the Basic Resolutions, which eventually found expression as Article 2 of the new Constitution, characterised Sri Lanka as a unitary state. The Federal Party proposed an amendment that the word “federal” should be substituted for “unitary”. Mr. V. Dharmalingam, the spokesman for the party on this subject, in his address to the Constituent Assembly, on 16 March, 1971, showed flexibility by declaring that the powers of the federating units and their relationship to the centre were negotiable, once the principle of federalism was accepted. Indivisibility of the Republic was emphatically articulated, self-determination in its external aspect being firmly ruled out.

There was no reciprocity, however. Mr. Sarath Muttettuwegama, administering a sharp rebuke, declared: “Federalism has become something of a dirty word in the southern parts of this country”. The last opportunity to halt the inexorable march of events was spurned.

The pushback came briskly, and with singular ferocity. This was in the form of the Vaddukoddai Resolution adopted by the Tamil United Liberation Front at its first national convention held on 14 May, 1976. The historic significance of this document is that it set out, for the first time, in the most unambiguous terms, the blueprint for an independent state for the Tamil nation, embracing the merged Northern and Eastern Provinces. The second part of the Resolution contained the nucleus of Tamil Eelam, its scope extending beyond the shores of the Island. The state of Tamil Eelam was to be home not only to the people of the Northern and Eastern Provinces, but to “all Tamil-speaking people living in any part of Ceylon and to Tamils of Eelam origin living in any part of the world who may opt for citizenship of Tamil Eelam”.

The most discouraging element of this sequence of events was the timid and evasive approach adopted by prominent actors at crucial moments. The District Development Councils Act of 1980 presented a unique opportunity. Disappointingly, however, the Presidential Commission, presided over by Mr. Victor Tennekoon QC, a former Chief Justice and Attorney General, lacked the courage even to interpret the terms of reference as permitting allusion to the ethnic conflict. Despite the persevering efforts of Professor A.J. Wilson, son-in-law of Mr. Chelvanayakam, and a confidant of President J.R. Jayewardene, and Dr. Neelan Tiruchelvam, the majority of the members were inclined to adopt a narrow, technical interpretation of the terms of reference. The setting of the legislation was one in which Tamil formations, such as the Tamil United Liberation Front, were struggling to maintain their moderate postures in an increasingly polarised environment, with pressure from radical elements proving almost irresistible.

The whole initiative paled into insignificance in comparison with a series of tragic events, including the burning of the Jaffna library during the run-up to the District Development Council elections in the North and the calamitous events of Black July 1983. Policymakers, at a critical juncture, had, once again, let a limited opportunity slip through their fingers.

The next intervention occurred in the sunset years of the United National Party administration. This was the Parliamentary Select Committee on the ethnic conflict, known after its Chairman as the Mangala Moonesinghe Committee, appointed in August, 1991.

The Majority Report made a detailed proposal which was intended to serve as the basis of a compromise between two schools of thought—one stoutly resisting any idea of merger of the Northern and Eastern Provinces, and the other demanding such merger as the indispensable basis of a viable solution. An imaginative via media was the concept of the Apex Council, which formed the centrepiece of the Majority Report. It adopted as a point of departure two separate Provincial Councils for the North and the East. This dichotomy would characterise the provincial executive as well: each Provincial Council would have an Executive Minister as the head of the Board of Ministers. However, over and above these, the two Provincial Councils together would constitute a Regional Council for the entire North-East region. Although presenting several features of interest, as a pragmatic mediating mechanism, the proposal did not enjoy a sufficiently broad support base for implementation. (To be concluded)

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Procurement cuts, rising burn rates and shipment delays deepen energy threat

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Norochcholai power plant

Coal crisis far worse than first feared

Sri Lanka’s coal supply crisis is significantly deeper than previously understood, with senior engineers and energy analysts warning that a dangerous combination of reduced procurement volumes, rising coal consumption and shipment delays could place national power generation at serious risk.

Information reviewed by The Island shows that Lanka Coal Company (LCC) had originally planned to secure 2.32 million metric tons of coal for the relevant supply period to meet generation requirements at the Lakvijaya coal power complex.

Following procurement discussions, the final arrangement was to obtain 840,000 metric tons from Potencia, including a 10 percent optional quantity, and 1.5 million metric tons from Trident, equivalent to 25 vessels.

However, subsequent decisions resulted in the cancellation of four Potencia shipments, reducing that supplier’s volume to 627,000 metric tons. This brought the total expected procurement down to 2.16 million metric tons, creating an immediate 160,000 metric ton deficit, even before operational demand is considered.

“This is a major shortfall in any generation planning model,” a senior engineer familiar with coal operations said. “When stocks are planned to the margin, a reduction of this scale can have serious consequences.”

Power sector sources said the deficit becomes more critical because coal consumption rates have increased by more than 10 percent, meaning larger volumes are now required to generate the same electricity output.

“In simple terms, the system is burning more coal for less efficiency,” an energy analyst told The Island. “That means the real shortage may be substantially larger than the paper shortage.”

Experts attributed the higher burn rate to ageing equipment, maintenance constraints and operating inefficiencies at the Norochcholai plant.

A third concern has now emerged in the form of shipment delays and possible unloading constraints, raising fears that even contracted supplies may not arrive in time to maintain safe reserve levels.

“If vessel schedules slip or unloading is disrupted, stocks can fall very quickly,” another senior engineer warned. “At that point, the country has little choice but to shift to costly thermal oil generation.”

Such a move would sharply increase electricity generation costs and place additional pressure on public finances.

Analysts said the convergence of three separate risks — procurement reductions, higher-than-expected consumption and delivery uncertainty — had created a serious energy planning challenge.

“This is no longer a routine procurement issue,” one industry observer said. “It has become a national power security issue.”

Calls are growing for authorities to disclose current coal inventories, incoming vessel schedules and contingency measures to reassure the public and industry.

With electricity demand expected to remain high and hydro resources dependent on rainfall, engineers caution that delays in addressing the coal gap could expose the country to avoidable supply disruptions in the months ahead.

By Ifham Nizam

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Lake Gregory boat accidents: Need to regulate water adventure tourism

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Gregory’s Lake

LETTER

The capsizing of two boats in Lake Gregory on 19 April was merely an isolated incident. It has come as a stark and urgent warning that a far more serious tragedy is imminent unless decisive action is taken without delay.

Mayor of Nuwara Eliya, Upali Wanigasekera has publicly stated that stringent measures have been introduced to prevent similar occurrences. However, it must be noted that such measures are unlikely to yield meaningful results in the absence of a comprehensive regulatory framework governing Inland Water Adventure Tourism (IWAT) in Sri Lanka.

For decades, this sector has operated without any regulation. Despite repeated calls for reform, there remains no structured legal mechanism to oversee operational standards, safety compliance, or accountability. Consequently, there is chaos particularly in critical operational aspects of this otherwise vital tourism segment.

The situation in Lake Gregory is not unique. Other prominent inland tourism destinations, such as Kitulgala and Madu Ganga, face similar risks. Without urgent intervention, it is only a matter of time before a major calamity occurs, placing both local and foreign tourists in grave danger.

At present, there appear to be no enforceable legal requirements governing:

*  The fitness for navigation of vessels

*  Mandatory safety standards and equipment

*  Certification and competency of boat operators

The display of permits issued by local authorities is often misleading. These permits function merely as revenue licences and should not be misconstrued as certification of compliance with safety or technical standards.

Furthermore, local authorities themselves appear constrained. The Nuwara Eliya Mayor is reportedly limited in his ability to enforce meaningful improvements due to the absence of legal backing. Compounding this issue is the proliferation of unauthorised operators at Lake Gregory, functioning with minimal oversight.

Disturbingly, there are credible concerns that some boat operators function under the influence of intoxicants, while enforcement authorities appear to maintain a lackadaisical stance. The parallels with the unregulated private transport sector are both evident and alarming.

In the absence of a proper legal framework, any victims of such incidents are left with no recourse but to pursue lengthy and uncertain claims under common law against individual operators.

The Minister of Tourism, this situation demands your immediate and personal intervention.

A robust regulatory framework for Inland Water Adventure Tourism must be urgently introduced and enforced. This should include licensing standards, safety regulations, operator certification, regular inspections, and strict penalties for non-compliance.

Failure to act now will not only endanger lives but also severely damage Sri Lanka’s reputation as a safe and responsible tourist destination.

The time for incremental measures has passed. What is required is decisive policy action.

Athula Ranasinghe
Public-Spirited Citizen

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