Features
Saving Sinharaja: A rainforest under threat

(Excerpted from the authorized biography of Thilo Hoffmann by Douglas. B. Ranasinghe)
Sinharaja is the last undisturbed extent of rainforest in Sri Lanka. It lies across the boundary between the Sabaragamuwa and Southern Provinces, within the Ratnapura, Galle and Matara Districts.
The protected area officially named Sinharaja, so situated, is part of a larger forest of that name. The rest of it includes Forest Reserves or Proposed Reserves under other names, some of which are mentioned below. In their midst lay the Sinharaja Forest Reserve and the Sinharaja Proposed Forest Reserve, a continuous area of forest divided thus for formal reasons.
In the late 1960s politicians, administrators and even the public were unaware of the unique value of rainforests. The State began to intensify the exploitation of wet-zone forests to meet the growing demand for timber, especially plywood. Questions relating to the environment, the conservation of unique systems of biodiversity, gene pools, and the other natural riches such forests yield were not asked.
The State Timber Corporation, contracted by the Forest Department under its Forestry Master Plan, commenced log extraction in the wider Sinharaja area from the Morapitiya-Runakanda forest.A plywood and chipboard complex with a processing capacity of four million cubic feet per year was built with Romanian aid at Kosgama. This was 85 km northwest of Sinharaja.
It was decided that the wood to feed it would be taken from Sinharaja, mainly the two Sinharaja Reserves, and that for this purpose the entire extent of pristine rainforest they held was to be selectively logged. Aid was obtained from Canada for this project to be carried out by mechanized means on a massive scale.
Outside the forest the Canadian contractors built and widened roads, strengthened bridges and culverts, and set up a large timber yard at the Dela railway station (the KV line’ then extended to this area and beyond), from where the timber would be freighted to the Kosgama factory. They cleared and built from Veddagala to Sinharaja a wide road sufficient for their equipment to be hauled in and for huge lorries to transport the timber out.
Into Sinharaja they moved the heaviest logging and extraction machinery then known. Where the Research Station stands today there rose a machine yard and repair shop, the ground soaked with engine fuel and lubricants.
The need to rescue a forest
At the time that the State turned to it in the quest for material self-sufficiency, Sinharaja was regarded as remote and mysterious, and had hardly ever been visited by a biologist, or even explored.In 1969 at the Annual General Meeting of the WNPS its President, Thilo Hoffmann, made special mention of the threat to this unexplored but invaluable asset of the country.
The following year a deputation from the General Committee of the Society led by him met the Chairmen d the State Timber and Plywood Corporations. Through them they persuaded the Forest Department to spare 1,000 to 1,200 acres of Sinharaja as a scientific reserve.
Delegations from the WNPS continued to bring the matter up at meetings with relevant Government committees and agencies. With Thilo they met the Conservator of Forests, too, for this purpose.
At the AGM for 1971 in December that year, member Vere de Mel moved the following resolution; and he in particular urged repeatedly that the Society should take further action.
“That this Society requests its Committee, if after a full study it considers it desirable to do so, to use every possible means to check the denudation of the Sinharaja Forest Reserve for the purpose of exploiting its timber for a Government Plywood Factory.”
It was up to Thilo, to initiate the action. He decided to visit the forest. Sam Elapata Jr., a long-standing committee member of the WNPS, and a close friend of his, lived at Nivitigala near Sinharaja. In an article on Thilo in the 50th anniversary issue of Loris (1986), he recounts that Thilo came to his house, and what he said, thus:
“Sam, let’s go and see the Sinharaja in its pristine glory before the people ravage and exploit it. I would like your children also to see it, because it is their heritage. Maybe one of them will remember it as it was and what has happened to it, and we may still make a conservationist out of him.” He was already thinking of the future.
Thilo spent three days, February 26-28, 1972, on extensive trips into the Sinharaja Reserves and the surrounding areas, partly with Sam, his small son Upali and Chandra Liyanage. He observed and noted the status of the forest, its fauna and flora, the people and their economy.
What he saw convinced him that the Society had to do all in its power to persuade the Government that the intact forest was worth far more than the timber, and that the Sinharaja logging project should be entirely abandoned.
The campaign
He realized that this was no easy task, especially at that time when awareness of conservation concerns was very limited indeed. An unprecedented campaign was necessary. As a basis for it, Thilo considered that it was his duty to describe and explain what was at stake. Without convincing reasons the Society would have no chance of either drawing other individuals and NGOs into their “Save Sinharaja” campaign, or of getting the Government to listen to them.
Thilo now wrote the monograph titled The Sinharaja Forest 1972. The inclusion of the year in the title was meant to indicate the threat to this age-old natural system through human interference and its transitory status at that point of time. Here, also, for the first time a Ministry of the Environment was proposed. This remarkable work, published as a booklet by the WNPS, never attained later the prominence it deserves. It is reproduced here as Appendix VII.
Very little information about Sinharaja was then available. About the only record was a report by J. R. Baker in the Geograpbical journal titled The Sinharaja Rain forest of Ceylon”‘. Baker had camped in the vicinity of Sinharaja from the end of July to the beginning of September 1936, and visited the fringes of the forest. He wrote:
“The villagers in the vicinity of Sinharaja … are Buddhists … They hold the forest itself in great veneration and consider that any crime committed in it is particularly evil. The killing of animals and the eating of flesh are contrary to the precepts of Buddhism … For this reason pressure was brought to bear upon me not to place my camp actually within the forest.”
Thilo says in his monograph:
“The people of the Sinharaja country are friendly and hospitable. We were received in several houses and offered king coconut and hakuru.”
He also describes in detail the sustainable and limited use they made of forest produce. The area was very thinly populated with few villages and hamlets, accessible only on foot. Thus the peripheral human impact on the forest was negligible.
Two thousand copies in English and 1,000 in Sinhala of the booklet were printed. With its impact the WNPS managed to bring together a large number of NGOs for the sole purpose of opposing the logging of Sinharaja. Thilo wrote a memorandum addressed to the Prime Minister which was then co-signed by all those who lent their support.
It was the first time that so many different organizations were united in a single goal and acting together under one umbrella for conservation in Sri Lanka. Many NGOs supported the appeal to Government, among them the Soil Conservation Society of Ceylon, Geographical Society of Ceylon, Ceylon Natural History Society, National Agricultural Society and Planters’ Association.
The Ayurvedic Practitioners’ Association readily joined, as valuable and rare medicinal plants in Sinharaja make it a vital “Nature’s pharmacy”. Dr S. R. Kottegoda, Professor of Pharmacology and Dean of the Faculty of Medicine at the University of Ceylon, Colombo, also signed. Other well-known personalities in the list included former Conservators of Forests, Directors of Irrigation and Surveyors General, a few members of Parliament and journalists. The media also helped, to some extent.
Thilo realized the importance of involving the Buddhist clergy in the struggle, and sought, through Mr Sumith Abeywickrama of the Soil Conservation Society, the support of the Ven. Neluwe Gunananda Thero, Sanghanayaka of the Galle Pirivenas. The latter understandingly gave his full co-operation and associated himself with the document to the Prime Minister. The President of the All-Ceylon Buddhist Congress, Dr G. P. Malalasekera too was a signatory.
The main concerns expressed and arguments put forward in the memorandum were the following, in summary.
* Once it is mechanically logged natural regeneration will not take place, and it will be lost forever as a unique living monument of evolution.
*The evolution of the forest should continue for the sake of the gene pool. Once it is destroyed it could never be re-created by man.
*Only 9% of the wet zone in Sri Lanka is covered by forest. Experts state the extent should be 25%.
Sinharaja has not been studied systematically. It has a large number of indigenous species. It has great potential for study, research and new products from which prosperity may spring.
*Logging will affect the daily lives of people with ensuing flash floods and landslides. A good quality of life for the people is only possible in a high-quality environment.
The historic document (Appendix VIII) was submitted to Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike on 18 May 1972.
It was followed on June 5 by Hoffmann’s suggestions to the Ministry of Planning on how to meet the country’s need for timber. Some of the suggestions put forward were: study of the technology of rubber wood for its use in plywood; enrichment of 250,000 acres of degraded and secondary wet zone forest with mahogany, which is an all-purpose timber, and other useful species including quick-growing plywood timbers; temporary import of plywood logs for immediate relief if necessary; and an island-wide campaign for the planting of suitable tree species in home gardens, spare plots and wasteland.
The response
As a result of this opposition, the Government appointed a Committee, with George Rajapaksa, then Minister of Fisheries, as chairman. ‘There were hearings and deliberations. These went on for several years. ‘The WNPS, too, gave evidence. This, though crucial, is barely mentioned in the final report!
The Forest Department and its Ministry, as well as the Ministry of Industries and other interested parties, including the Canadian contractors, used all their very considerable powers and influence to convince the Government and the public that logging Sinharaja was in the overall greater interest of the nation. Canadian forestry experts were cited. An Indian botanist was brought down to argue and bolster the case for exploitation. Even socio-economic reasons were adduced to justify it.
The Canadians had claimed that with selective logging the forest would regenerate in 20 years. But at the rate of extraction needed for the supply of wood as required by the contract the entire extent of the wider Sinharaja forest would be gone through in 12 years. Yet the Indian agreed with their plan.
The position of the WNPS was steadily supported by Willem Meijer, a Dutch botanist with wide experience in the tropics and expert scientific knowledge of rain-forests. Then teaching at a university in the USA, he was in Sri Lanka to revise sections of Trimen’s Flora as the author of several of its chapters. He argued against the “experts” regarding the regrowth of the tropical trees at Sinharaja, which he estimated would take from 40 to 80 years, and he strongly warned against any disturbance to the unique forest”. The Indian botanist was countered by Hoffmann, in the article reproduced as Appendix IX.
All this was to no avail. The mechanized logging of the two Sinharaja Reserves began. It was claimed that those opposing it were cranks and obstructionists, who merely pursued an anti-national hobby. Thilo was once even threatened with bodily harm by the contractors.
The official publication of the report of the Rajapaksa Committee would be delayed until 1976.
However, since 1973 its contents were conveyed to the Press and the WNPS. It was a great disappointment. Most of it dealt with yield estimates, felling quotas, and the question of how and from which Reserves the enormous quantities of timber required by the Kosgama factory were to be procured. Ecological considerations seemed to be of no concern.
The report contended: “Re representatives of the Society (who) came before the committee, it was pointed out to them that in September 1970 their Society had agreed to the exploitation of Sinharaja provided an area not less than 1,000-1,200 acres was left in an undisturbed state, however between then and now the Society has changed its views considerably and repeatedly requested that the whole of Sinharaja should be set apart for purposes of scientific study.”
Already Hoffmann had written in The Sinharaja Forest the following passage which explained and represented the Society’s momentous change of view.
“Before visiting the area I believed the selective logging, as planned for the two Sinharaja reserves would be a sensible and acceptable economical measure. After days of careful observation in the field and subsequent study of the many factors involved, I have come to the firm conclusion that the two Sinharaja reserves should be left alone, and that they serve the nation best in their present, totally unexploited state.”
The Government report proposed that 4,200 acres in the Sinharaja Reserves should be left as an arboretum. But of this, as Hoffmann pointed out, not much more than 2,000 acres was intact rainforest: the rest had already been logged. As President of the WNPS Thilo Hoffmann continued the struggle with no letup, among other actions, writing several more persuasive and well-reasoned documents.
The continued pressure brought some relief The Prime Minister’s office informed the Society that there would be negotiations with the Canadian Government to modify the contract, for the time being to exploit only 1,500 acres at lesser intensity in the north-western part of the Sinharaja Reserves, and to carry out the mechanized logging first at the Delgoda and Morapitiya-Runakanda Reserves.
The General Committee of the WNPS, including its President, visited Sinharaja on March 8, 1975. Loris records “that they were deeply moved and greatly depressed by the permanent and irrevocable changes … inflicted.” The felling of each large tree in a rainforest destroys or damages smaller trees, other flora and fauna, along and around its line of fall. In addition, the wide “skid tracks” of the machinery to approach the trees and remove the timber had destroyed more of the forest.
These were then planted with mahogany, an exotic tree, in this unique indigenous ecosystem. (It is the area altered in this manner that is today mainly accessible to the visiting public.) They also:
noted with surprise that … the size of the authorized Pilot Project of 1,500 acres had been greatly exceeded. They were told that “an extension had been given” and that by now 3,000 acres have been logged, possibly even more.
As Hoffmann remarked, in the 22,000 acres of the two Sinharaja Reserves there was now “no more than 15,000, probably 10,000 acres only, of untouched quality forest left””. (That is, 6,000 and 4,000 ha, respectively.) Of this the State had agreed eventually to protect from logging, in effect, only 2,000 acres (or 800 ha), a simply insufficient, and vulnerable, area – representing a forest type which not long before had covered much of the low- and midlands of the country.
Sinharaja continued to be cut down without due control. The mechanized logging was not shifted to the other Reserves. A year later the outlook was grave, and the “heart of the forest”, as Hoffmann called it, was being destroyed.
After all the effort it seemed that the battle was lost. At this point Thilo wrote the paper entitled ‘Epitaph for a Forest: Sinharaja – 1976’ in Loris19 (Appendix XI) to yet again urge the attention of the public, persuade the State, and prevent the tragedy which today many find unthinkable.
The damage until now had been held back and slowed down by his relentless efforts. But if events continued to run their course the lucrative main logging contract would be extended, with Canadian aid. All the rest of Sinharaja would be destroyed.
In 1977 a new Government was elected. Thilo immediately tried to obtain a personal interview with the Prime Minister, J. R. Jayewardene. Fortunately, he succeeded very quickly. The latter’s Private Secretary, Nihal Weeratunge would always be helpful in conservation matters. Now politicians and administrators had become sufficiently aware of the continuous agitation to preserve Sinharaja and the reasons for it. At last, the persuasion met with a favourable reception and response.
Swiftly the State decreed that logging in the Sinharaja Reserves should cease entirely. It was decided that all wet-zone forests were to be given complete protection. The machinery and the vehicles were removed. The contractors departed. Sinharaja was saved.
Sinharaja today
Today Sinharaja is recognized as an important part of a `biological hotspot’, i. e. one of the areas of the Earth with the highest biological diversity, which Sri Lanka is assessed to be. It is the first natural feature in the country designated a World Heritage Site. An information brochure by the Forest Department describes Sinharaja as “the heart of the nation”. Had it been logged 35 years ago, as they wanted to, it would now be a severely degraded forest area, like so many others.
Thilo remarks: “I wished Sinharaja to be placed under the Fauna and Flora Protection Ordinance (Wildlife Department), because at that time only the status of National Park could give it the necessary legal protection. The Forest Department, of course, opposed this strongly, and eventually created its own rival to the Ordinance, namely the National Heritage Wilderness Area Act, for the sole purpose of keeping Sinharaja under its control. Under this Act Sinharaja was declared a National Wilderness Area in 1989. I believe since then no other area has been so declared by the FD.
In this connection it must be recalled that it was the Forest Department which used all the power, money and influence at its disposal to make sure that all of Sinharaja would be exploited for timber and to prevent it being preserved for posterity. They nearly succeeded!
Both the Department of Wildlife Conservation and particularly the Forest Department had their own agendas which often (and in the case of the FD, more often than not) were in plain opposition to sensible and effective conservation policies and projects. The title of the Head of the Forest Department, Conservator (now -General) of Forests, was actually a misnomer.
After the letter to the Prime Minister was submitted, the WNPS, under Hoffmann, had fought on unaided for the cause of Sinharaja. Even the co-signatories had been content to leave it at that. However, we find that even by 1978, as the Secretary of the Society wrote in his Annual Report, after the lonely seven-year battle by the WNPS “everybody else seems to be claiming credit for saving Sinharaja”!
In 1991 Thilo Hoffmann wrote in Loris20 of his endeavour: “This constitutes one of the few major victories which my direct personal involvement during over three decades in the conservation movement achieved. Only long after the battle was over did the Forest Department begin to realize the value of the untouched forest and started to give it meaningful protection and scientific study.
“A new law was promulgated, called the National Heritage Wilderness Areas Act (1985) and Sinharaja is today the only site declared under it. It has also received international recognition as a World Heritage Site (UNESCO). The logged portion of the forest offers interesting possibilities for scientific study about the effects of logging and regeneration whereas the major untouched portion of the forest remains a unique Sri Lanka system of inestimable value. I am confident that Sinharaja will now survive for all time and that the people of Sri Lanka will treasure it with the love and respect it deserves. The struggle was worth it.”
The largest untouched tropical rainforest in Ceylon, Sinharaja had taken at least 100 million years to evolve.
Features
A plural society requires plural governance

The local government elections that took place last week saw a consolidation of the democratic system in the country. The government followed the rules of elections to a greater extent than its recent predecessors some of whom continue to be active on the political stage. Particularly noteworthy was the absence of the large-scale abuse of state resources, both media and financial, which had become normalised under successive governments in the past four decades. Reports by independent election monitoring organisations made mention of this improvement in the country’s democratic culture.
In a world where democracy is under siege even in long-established democracies, Sri Lanka’s improvement in electoral integrity is cause for optimism. It also offers a reminder that democracy is always a work in progress, ever vulnerable to erosion and needs to be constantly fought for. The strengthening of faith in democracy as a result of these elections is encouraging. The satisfaction expressed by the political parties that contested the elections is a sign that democracy in Sri Lanka is strong. Most of them saw some improvement in their positions from which they took reassurance about their respective futures.
The local government elections also confirmed that the NPP and its core comprising the JVP are no longer at the fringes of the polity. The NPP has established itself as a mainstream party with an all-island presence, and remarkably so to a greater extent than any other political party. This was seen at the general elections, where the NPP won a majority of seats in 21 of the country’s 22 electoral districts. This was a feat no other political party has ever done. This is also a success that is challenging to replicate. At the present local government elections, the NPP was successful in retaining its all-island presence although not to the same degree.
Consolidating Support
Much attention has been given to the relative decline in the ruling party’s vote share from the 61 percent it secured in December’s general election to 43 percent in the local elections. This slippage has been interpreted by some as a sign of waning popularity. However, such a reading overlooks the broader trajectory of political change. Just three years ago, the NPP and its allied parties polled less than five percent nationally. That they now command over 40 percent of the vote represents a profound transformation in voter preferences and political culture. What is even more significant is the stability of this support base, which now surpasses that of any rival. The votes obtained by the NPP at these elections were double those of its nearest rival.
The electoral outcomes in the north and east, which were largely won by parties representing the Tamil and Muslim communities, is a warning signal that ethnic conflict lurks beneath the surface. The success of the minority parties signals the different needs and aspirations of the ethnic and religious minority electorates, and the need for the government to engage more fully with them. Apart from the problems of poverty, lack of development, inadequate access to economic resources and antipathy to excessive corruption that people of the north and east share in common with those in other parts of the country, they also have special problems that other sections of the population do not have. These would include problems of military takeover of their lands, missing persons and persons incarcerated for long periods either without trial or convictions under the draconian Prevention of Terrorism Act (which permits confessions made to security forces to be made admissible for purposes of conviction) and the long time quest for self-rule in the areas of their predominance
The government’s failure to address these longstanding issues with urgency appears to have caused disaffection in electorate in the north and east. While structural change is necessarily complex and slow, delays can be misinterpreted as disinterest or disregard, especially by minorities already accustomed to marginalisation. The lack of visible progress on issues central to minority communities fosters a sense of exclusion and deepens political divides. Even so, it is worth noting that the NPP’s vote in the north and east was not insignificant. It came despite the NPP not tailoring its message to ethnic grievances. The NPP has presented a vision of national reform grounded in shared values of justice, accountability, development, and equality.
Translating electoral gains into meaningful governance will require more than slogans. The failure to swiftly address matters deemed to be important by the people of those areas appears to have cost the NPP votes amongst the ethnic and religious minorities, but even here it is necessary to keep matters in perspective. The NPP came first in terms of seats won in two of the seven electoral districts of the north and east. They came second in five others. The fact that the NPP continued to win significant support indicates that its approach of equity in development and equal rights for all has resonance. This was despite the Tamil and Muslim parties making appeals to the electorate on nationalist or ethnic grounds.
Slow Change
Whether in the north and east or outside it, the government is perceived to be slow in delivering on its promises. In the context of the promise of system change, it can be appreciated that such a change will be resisted tooth and nail by those with vested interests in the continuation of the old system. System change will invariably be resisted at multiple levels. The problem is that the slow pace of change may be seen by ethnic and religious minorities as being due to the disregard of their interests. However, the system change is coming slow not only in the north and east, but also in the entire country.
At the general election in December last year, the NPP won an unprecedented number of parliamentary seats in both the country as well as in the north and east. But it has still to make use of its 2/3 majority to make the changes that its super majority permits it to do. With control of 267 out of 339 local councils, but without outright majorities in most, it must now engage in coalition-building and consensus-seeking if it wishes to govern at the local level. This will be a challenge for a party whose identity has long been built on principled opposition to elite patronage, corruption and abuse of power rather than to governance. General Secretary of the JVP, Tilvin Silva, has signaled a reluctance to form alliances with discredited parties but has expressed openness to working with independent candidates who share the party’s values. This position can and should be extended, especially in the north and east, to include political formations that represent minority communities and have remained outside the tainted mainstream.
In a plural and multi-ethnic society like Sri Lanka, democratic legitimacy and effective governance requires coalition-building. By engaging with locally legitimate minority parties, especially in the north and east, the NPP can engage in principled governance without compromising its core values. This needs to be extended to the local government authorities in the rest of the country as well. As the 19th century English political philosopher John Stuart Mill observed, “The worth of a state in the long run is the worth of the individuals composing it,” and in plural societies, that worth can only be realised through inclusive decision-making.
by Jehan Perera
Features
Commercialising research in Sri Lanka – not really the healthiest thing for research

In the early 2000s, a colleague, returning to Sri Lanka after a decade in a research-heavy first world university, complained to me that ‘there is no research culture in Sri Lanka’. But what exactly does having a ‘research culture’ mean? Is a lot of funding enough? What else has stopped us from working towards a productive and meaningful research culture? A concerted effort has been made to improve the research culture of state universities, though there are debates about how healthy such practices are (there is not much consideration of the same in private ‘universities’ in Sri Lanka but that is a discussion for another time). So, in the 25 years since my colleague bemoaned our situation, what has been happening?
What is a ‘research culture’?
A good research culture would be one where we – academics and students – have the resources to engage productively in research. This would mean infrastructure, training, wholesome mentoring, and that abstract thing called headspace. In a previous Kuppi column, I explained at length some of the issues we face as researchers in Sri Lankan universities, including outdated administrative regulations, poor financial resources, and such aspects. My perspective is from the social sciences, and might be different to other disciplines. Still, I feel that there are at least a few major problems that we all face.
Number one: Money is important.
Take the example American universities. Harvard University, according to Harvard Magazine, “received $686.5 million in federally sponsored research grants” for the fiscal year of 2024 but suddenly find themselves in a bind because of such funds being held back. Research funds in these universities typically goes towards building and maintenance of research labs and institutions, costs of equipment, material and other resources and stipends for graduate and other research assistants, conferences, etc. Without such an infusion of money towards research, the USA would not have been able to attracts (and keeps) the talent and brains of other countries. Without a large amount of money dedicated for research, Sri Lankan state universities, too, will not have the research culture it yearns for. Given the country’s austere economic situation, in the last several years, research funds have come mainly from self-generated funds and treasury funds. Yet, even when research funds are available (they are usually inadequate), we still have some additional problems.
Number two: Unending spools of red tape
In Sri Lankan universities red tape is endless. An MoU with a foreign research institution takes at least a year. Financial regulations surrounding the award and spending of research grants is frustrating.
Here’s a personal anecdote. In 2018, I applied for a small research grant from my university. Several months later, I was told I had been awarded it. It comes to me in installments of not more than Rs 100,000. To receive this installment, I must submit a voucher and wait a few weeks until it passes through various offices and gains various approvals. For mysterious financial reasons, asking for reimbursements is discouraged. Obviously then, if I were working on a time-sensitive study or if I needed a larger amount of money for equipment or research material, I would not be able to use this grant. MY research assistants, transcribers, etc., must be willing to wait for their payments until I receive this advance. In 2022, when I received a second advance, the red tape was even tighter. I was asked to spend the funds and settle accounts – within three weeks. ‘Should I ask my research assistants to do the work and wait a few weeks or months for payment? Or should I ask them not to do work until I get the advance and then finish it within three weeks so I can settle this advance?’ I asked in frustration.
Colleagues, who regularly use university grants, frustratedly go along with it; others may opt to work with organisations outside the university. At a university meeting, a few years ago, set up specifically to discuss how young researchers could be encouraged to do research, a group of senior researchers ended the meeting with a list of administrative and financial problems that need to be resolved if we want to foster ‘a research culture’. These are still unresolved. Here is where academic unions can intervene, though they seem to be more focused on salaries, permits and school quotas. If research is part of an academic’s role and responsibility, a research-friendly academic environment is not a privilege, but a labour issue and also impinges on academic freedom to generate new knowledge.
Number three: Instrumentalist research – a global epidemic
The quality of research is a growing concern, in Sri Lanka and globally. The competitiveness of the global research environment has produced seriously problematic phenomena, such as siphoning funding to ‘trendy’ topics, the predatory publications, predatory conferences, journal paper mills, publications with fake data, etc. Plagiarism, ghost writing and the unethical use of AI products are additional contemporary problems. In Sri Lanka, too, we can observe researchers publishing very fast – doing short studies, trying to publish quickly by sending articles to predatory journals, sending the same article to multiple journals at the same time, etc. Universities want more conferences rather than better conferences. Many universities in Sri Lanka have mandated that their doctoral candidates must publish journal articles before their thesis submission. As a consequence, novice researchers frequently fall prey to predatory journals. Universities have also encouraged faculties or departments to establish journals, which frequently have sub-par peer review.
Alongside this are short-sighted institutional changes. University Business Liankage cells, for instance, were established as part of the last World Bank loan cycle to universities. They are expected to help ‘commercialise’ research and focuses on research that can produce patents, and things that can be sold. Such narrow vision means that the broad swathe of research that is undertaken in universities are unseen and ignored, especially in the humanities and social sciences. A much larger vision could have undertaken the promotion of research rather than commercialisation of it, which can then extend to other types of research.
This brings us to the issue of what types of research is seen as ‘relevant’ or ‘useful’. This is a question that has significant repercussions. In one sense, research is an elitist endeavour. We assume that the public should trust us that public funds assigned for research will be spent on worth-while projects. Yet, not all research has an outcome that shows its worth or timeliness in the short term. Some research may not be understood other than by specialists. Therefore, funds, or time spent on some research projects, are not valued, and might seem a waste, or a privilege, until and unless a need for that knowledge suddenly arises.
A short example suffices. Since the 1970s, research on the structures of Sinhala and Sri Lankan Tamil languages (sound patterns, sentence structures of the spoken versions, etc.) have been nearly at a standstill. The interest in these topics are less, and expertise in these areas were not prioritised in the last 30 years. After all, it is not an area that can produce lucrative patents or obvious contributions to the nation’s development. But with digital technology and AI upon us, the need for systematic knowledge of these languages is sorely evident – digital technologies must be able to work in local languages to become useful to whole populations. Without a knowledge of the structures and sounds of local languages – especially the spoken varieties – people who cannot use English cannot use those devices and platforms. While providing impetus to research such structures, this need also validates utilitarian research.
This then is the problem with espousing instrumental ideologies of research. World Bank policies encourage a tying up between research and the country’s development goals. However, in a country like ours, where state policies are tied to election manifestos, the result is a set of research outputs that are tied to election cycles. If in 2019, the priority was national security, in 2025, it can be ‘Clean Sri Lanka’. Prioritising research linked to short-sighted visions of national development gains us little in the longer-term. At the same time, applying for competitive research grants internationally, which may have research agendas that are not nationally relevant, is problematic. These are issues of research ethics as well.
Concluding thoughts
In moving towards a ‘good research culture’, Sri Lankan state universities have fallen into the trap of adopting some of the problematic trends that have swept through the first world. Yet, since we are behind the times anyway, it is possible for us to see the damaging consequences of those issues, and to adopt the more fruitful processes. A slower, considerate approach to research priorities would be useful for Sri Lanka at this point. It is also a time for collective action to build a better research environment, looking at new relationships and collaborations, and mentoring in caring ways.
(Dr. Kaushalya Perera teaches at the Department of English, University of Colombo)
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
By Kaushalya Perera
Features
Melantha …in the spotlight

Melantha Perera, who has been associated with many top bands in the past, due to his versatility as a musician, is now enjoying his solo career, as well … as a singer.
He was invited to perform at the first ever ‘Noon2Moon’ event, held in Dubai, at The Huddle, CityMax Hotel, on Saturday, 3rd May.
It was 15 hours of non-stop music, featuring several artistes, with Melantha (the only Sri Lankan on the show), doing two sets.
According to reports coming my way, ‘Noon2Moon’ turned out to be the party of the year, with guests staying back till well past 3.00 am, although it was a 12.00 noon to 3.00 am event.

Having Arabic food
Melantha says he enjoyed every minute he spent on stage as the crowd, made up mostly of Indians, loved the setup.
“I included a few Sinhala songs as there were some Sri Lankans, as well, in the scene.”
Allwyn H. Stephen, who is based in the UAE, was overjoyed with the success of ‘Noon2Moon’.
Says Allwyn: “The 1st ever Noon2Moon event in Dubai … yes, we delivered as promised. Thank you to the artistes for the fab entertainment, the staff of The Huddle UAE , the sound engineers, our sponsors, my supporters for sharing and supporting and, most importantly, all those who attended and stayed back till way past 3.00 am.”

Melantha:
Dubai and
then Oman
Allwyn, by the way, came into the showbiz scene, in a big way, when he featured artistes, live on social media, in a programme called TNGlive, during the Covid-19 pandemic.
After his performance in Dubai, Melantha went over to Oman and was involved in a workshop – ‘Workshop with Melantha Perera’, organised by Clifford De Silva, CEO of Music Connection.
The Workshop included guitar, keyboard and singing/vocal training, with hands-on guidance from the legendary Melantha Perera, as stated by the sponsors, Music Connection.
Back in Colombo, Melantha will team up with his band Black Jackets for their regular dates at the Hilton, on Fridays and Sundays, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays at Warehouse, Vauxhall Street.
Melantha also mentioned that Bright Light, Sri Lanka’s first musical band formed entirely by visually impaired youngsters, will give their maiden public performance on 7th June at the MJF Centre Auditorium in Katubadda, Moratuwa.
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