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Single entrepreneur – the difficult years and the Russian trade

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(Excerpted from the autobiography of Merrill, J. Fernando)

The early 1970s were difficult years for all businessmen in the country. The changes on the political front and the progressive policy of Ceylonisation resulted in forcing the foreign company owner out, but, simultaneously, created doubt in the minds of the potential local investor/entrepreneur. The Marxist doctrine which underpinned State economic policy and attitude did little to encourage the spirit of private entrepreneurship, unless it was for a few individuals who, for various reasons, found favour with the Government.

The exit of expatriate business families such as the Joneses (of AF Jones) did enable politically-unaffiliated locals such as me, to get a toehold in the tea export business. Given my strongly-held views on the tea export trade, particularly the British domination of the industry, which was highly detrimental to the interests of the producer with its sublimation of the real value potential of the authenticity of Pure Ceylon Tea, I would certainly have eventually set out on my own. The opportunity may not have come so early though, if not for the decidedly ‘foreigner unfriendly’ stance of the first Bandaranaike Government.

In 1974 I launched Merrill J. Fernando Exports Ltd., of which I was the sole owner. I believe this was a turning point in my business career as a tea exporter, for I was able to build on and consolidate on the back of the contacts I had made and the connections that I had established, in most countries of the tea-drinking world. The fact that the company bore my name was later a huge advantage that I did not foresee when I started marketing ‘Dilmah’ as a highly-personalized family brand. The latter eventually became its unique selling point. Whilst unhesitatingly conceding the element of good fortune – divine intervention, in my view – that is inherent in every success story, there was always my readiness to grasp opportunities as they presented themselves, in spite of the ever-present risk element.

I became the fourth largest exporter in the country when, in 1974, Merrill J. Fernando Co. Ltd. exported 24 million pounds of tea. It gave me business satisfaction as I was competing with the giants in the country, but exporting bulk tea to blenders and packers abroad never gave me the sense of achievement I was looking for. It was not a challenge as such an enterprise does not require vision or real skill. One had only to be competitive. The entire process was concerned only with generating volume, which had nothing to do with creating real value. But my long involvement in the bulk tea trade gave me knowledge and experience of the trade, and the trading disciplines, which served me well later when I started marketing my own brand.

My contacts in the USSR began playing a very significant role in my business and the subsequent development of the ‘Dilmah’ brand. Before the dissolution of the USSR, I would visit Moscow at least four or five times a year, mainly in connection with the supply of bulk tea. Grigory Pipinov, who became my friend when he was Deputy Russian Trade Commissioner in Sri Lanka, was of great help to me. During his stint in Sri Lanka, he and his wife Lilian were frequent visitors to my home. He was also a great cook and would spend much more time and effort organizing his frequent barbecue parties, for which he bought the beef from a particular butcher in Borella, and marinate for hours in my kitchen! The level of culinary perfection he required, in his view, could be achieved only by himself.

On all my visits to the USSR, I would be met at the airport by two or three officials and conducted to the National Hotel, the only equivalent then to a five-star hotel in Moscow. It had been built in 1903, during Czarist times, and was located close to both the Red Square and the Kremlin. My meetings were mostly with Grigori Pipinov and Bathov, Chairman of Sojuzplodoimport (Sojuz). The latter was also an extremely nice man and I developed very good relationships with the two, and all of the others that I dealt with. I gained their confidence as, in all my dealings with them, I was absolutely straightforward and they soon they realized that my agenda was what was on the table.

The tea trade in Russia was controlled by the State-owned Sojuz, a Moscow-based entity established in 1966 for the import of various food items in to Russia, including coffee and cocoa. It also owned a couple of premium vodka brands, such as Stolichnaya and Moskovskaya. Despite the subsequent breakup of the Soviet Union and the privatization of many previously State-controlled trade arms, control of Sojuz was retained by the State.

Whilst it was operating under State control, Sojuz imports of tea amounted to about USD 1.5 billion in value, annually. India accounted for about 60% of it, in volume. The balance was made up by China, Indonesia, Vietnam, Sri Lanka, and Bangladesh, collectively. Up to about 1988, average annual imports by the bloc amounted to about 135 million kilos. In the years 1989-1991, the volume reached 200 million kilos and in 1992, increased further to 260 million kilos. Till then, all the tea imported to the CIS bloc (Confederation of Independent States – 11 countries initially, increasing to 12 with the addition of Georgia in 1993), was processed in 16 tea packaging factories spread out across the bloc, and distributed to retail shops at fixed prices, under an agreement with the Ministry of Food and Industry and the Ministry of Internal Trade. The entire process, from importation of bulk to the cup of the consumer, was controlled by the State.

Tea and Perestroika

In 1988, when the Soviet Union collapsed, Russia wanted to import 20,000 MT per month. I agreed to give my buyers 500 MT and then gradually increase it to 1,000 MT. For me, it was a golden opportunity. Pipinov indicated to me that they were considering purchasing Dilmah tea exclusively, in 250 gm and 500 gm packs. I was invited by him to travel to Russia, to meet his Chairman, Bathov, and within a week I was in Moscow.

They accepted whatever price I quoted to them and, in order to maintain the trust in the relationship, I always ensured that my prices stayed reasonable in the context of the prevailing market. I believe that they were fully aware of this. Between 1988 and 2002, I used to ship an average of 100×40 ft. containers per month of bulk tea to Russia. Initially, whilst the dealings were directly with the Russian Government, trading conditions and commercial interactions were stable and reliable. I shipped tea to various ports in the USSR. However, with the dissolution of the Soviet Republic and the consequent muscling in of the Russian Mafia in to the trade, the business became fraught with difficulties and physically dangerous to other participants.

When I first started supplying large volumes against the Sojuz orders, as a result of my heavy buying, the Colombo Auction prices shot up by about Rs. 15 per kilo and I had to absorb substantial losses on my first order. I had indicated to Bathov and Pipinov that I would be quoting a very moderate price on the first order, but that I would have to adjust it thereafter, as I knew for a certainty that the auction price would increase sharply. That is exactly what happened.

On my next trip to Moscow, when Bathov asked me about my losses resulting from the tea market upturn, I told him that irrespective of the bottom line, I would maintain the agreed quality of service. He asked me for my new price for the second order – adjusted by me to cover my previous loss – and actually insisted that I increase it. I made a further small adjustment, but still kept it at a reasonable level. The fact that I did not try to exploit their urgent need for tea to my advantage established trust between us.

The new contracts enabled me to recover the losses I made on the earlier orders and start on the road to profit. I made certain that, irrespective of Colombo Tea Auction price fluctuations, I delivered consistent quality and freshness. This was the business which, for a considerable period of time, made ‘Dilmah’ a household name in Russia and also paved the way for its subsequent successes in other countries.

This importance of establishing one’s credentials with the buyer with the very first order is an invaluable first principle, which I learned for myself when, during my time as a trainee tea taster, I did a little extra business by supplying shops in Negombo with tea. I used to impress on my people in the company, from the very inception, that the tea export trade is a business of frequently-fluctuating fortunes. The latter is directly tied to auction price movement and the first principle is, irrespective of the auction price, to maintain consistent quality. If you supply lower quality to maintain profit, the loss of the buyer is a guaranteed consequence. If you stay the course with integrity, you will eventually prosper.

I entered the Russian trade when the socialist bloc was one nation and, over the years, watched its fragmentation even as I continued to ply my trade with them. One immediate result of the break-up was the sudden increase in tea import volumes, surging from around 135 million kg in 1988 to 260 million kg by 1992. At the time of the dissolution, only the Republic of Russia had the infrastructure for the import and export trade. Therefore, the release of tight state controls and the sudden exposure to a free market environment, presented opportunities to aspiring private sector entrepreneurs to move into an area which, previously, had no direct dealings with local traders.

Our marketing blunder and a lost opportunity

Our traders foolishly misinterpreted Russian market preferences, assuming that it would be an ideal destination for cheap tea, which could be sold with large margins. In fact, this misjudgment of the CIS market – as it later came to be called – even led to requests by our traders for a revision of minimum product standards in exports to Russia. What the newcomers to the Russian trade failed to realize was that even under the previous State monopoly, Russia had been purchasing largely quality tea and that despite the liberalization, the market’s expectations of Ceylon Tea did not change. As a result, eventually, the fly-by-night operators were forced to drop out, whilst the reputed, established brands stayed the course.

The Russian market could be roughly segmented in to four. At the bottom there was space for cheap blends. Then there were the slightly superior blends which came largely from the UK and, above that, Dilmah, noted for its consistent quality. At the top level were a few specialty products from well-known UK brands. A matter of interest was that a few of the multinational and European brands of tea, whilst being expensive, were also of consistent good quality. Those brands were a serious threat to Ceylon Tea, on account of their quicker delivery capability from destinations close to Russian ports, and, also because of their reliable quality.

With my emphasis on supplying quality tea at a proportionate price, as the first major Sri Lankan entrant to the Russian market, I was able to establish a valuable quality principle in the expectation of the Russian consumer of Ceylon Tea. The disintegration of the Soviet Union and the consequent dismantling of the State-controlled centralized purchasing policy was an ideal entry opportunity for our exporters to develop our own brands for export to the newly-created independent states. The market was surging and the Russian buyer was literally at our mercy. However, in the import/export free-for-all which ensued at the fall of the Soviet Union, many of our traders, despite my warnings, entered into cheap bargains with Russian traders to packet and supply low-cost tea under Russian labels instead of establishing purely Sri Lankan/Ceylon Tea brands.

With the fragmentation of the Soviet Union, in addition to Sri Lanka, countries such as Indonesia, China, Kenya, and India became active suppliers to the separate states of the original Soviet Union. Collectively, these states comprised the world’s largest single Black Tea market (apart from Indian internal consumption) and I confidently expected the market, jointly, to eventually move up to 300 million kg, annually.

In my experience, when a previously centrally-controlled market is opened for competition, within a matter of months consumers decide on brand preferences, depending on quality, presentation, and price. Once those standards are established in the minds of the consumers, it is difficult to wean them away. Had we quickly developed a strategy by combining both State and private resources to secure a reasonable share of the CIS market by treating it as a preferred region, we would be exporting 120 million kg to that market, annually, today, provided our national production continued to increase at a reasonable rate, ensuring that supplies to other markets did not suffer as a result.

In fact, in March 1993, I made such a proposal to Mr. R. Paskaralingam, then Secretary of the Ministry of Policy Planning and Implementation, suggesting that the Tea Board, Export Development Board, and Central Bank, should pool appropriate resources in developing a marketing plan for the CIS bloc in its entirety. I also offered my total support to such a project, backed by my knowledge and experience in the Russian trade.

3rd March, 1993
Mr. R. Paskaralingam,
Secretary,
Ministry of Policy Planning and Implementation, 123, Wijerama Mawatha,
COLOMBO 7,

Dear Mr. Paskaralingam,

MARKETING STRATEGY TO GUIDE USSR – CIS IMPORTS TOWARDS SALVAGING CEYLON TEA INDISTRY

For many years, we were the major supplier of bulk tea to the former USSR, outside the period when it was a monopoly of Consolexpo. In respect of Value Added Teas, we were the exclusive supplier. In the final year, leading to the breakup of the USSR, our Value Added exports were in excess of Rs. 1 billion.

In the years 1991 and 1992, there were hardly any exports, due to political and economic crisis prevailing in CIS countries,The position leading to exports to CIS countries took a dramatic turn in the last three months, when demand for Value Added Tea, from all Tea producing countries, escalated. India, Indonesia, China, Kenya and Sri Lanka are active in supplying these Republics, at the present time. Within the next six months, consumers will determine their preferences for quality and presentation, which will lead to market share, for each country or product, in what is the world’s largest single tea market.

CIS importers know nothing about tea or private trade, as yet. In this scenario, they are exploited by intermediaries, who contract to supply tea at good prices and draw stock from suppliers in this country at very low prices, for very poor tea. CIS consumers pay high prices for relatively poor tea. This exercise benefits only intermediaries in Europe, UK, USA, Canada and some other countries.

The total CIS market for tea is approximately 300 million kilos, p.a. and it will grow steadily.A suitable strategy must be developed immediately, to secure a good share of this market, for Ceylon tea, which I believe will be 50 million in 1993 and no less than 120 million per year, from 1994, provided we treat CIS as a preferred market and make a concerted effort, using the SLTB, EDB and Central tank to co-operate very closely, towards evolving a marketing plan, which I shall assist in formulating.

I have no doubt that exports to CIS countries will increase Auction price levels, to guarantee the operation of Plantations profitably, if opportunities in that market are harnessed for the benefit of Ceylon tea.

Considerable harm to the image of Ceylon tea has already been caused by misguided exporters, who are shipping very poor tea. Government should not watch this situation helplessly, as it will deny to Ceylon tea, a golden opportunity to balance its annual budget, if the export trade is correctly guided and monitored, in respect of exports to CIS countries.

TEA SMALL HOLDERS FACTORIES LIMITED

I understand that TEA SMALL HOLDERS FACTORIES LIMITED is due for privatization shortly. I shall be prepared to acquire a 51 % stake in it and develop the Company to produce value added teas, at plantation level, and export direct to CIS countries. This would offer maximum possible return to small holders and workers on these plantations. In fact, I may be able to persuade a CIS investor, with tea interests, to participate in this venture. This would be a model on which several ” growers’ co-operatives”, could be developed to manufacture value added products, for direct export.

I shall be leaving for Australia on 15th March and would like to meet with you, soon after your return from the U.S. If you agree with what I suggest, I am prepared to delay my departure by 3 or 4 days, in order to get the marketing plan underway, in association with SLTB, EDB and the Central Bank.

With kind regards,
Yours sincerely,
MERRILL J. FERNANDO,



Features

Revolt in the Temple: Poverty as Structural Control

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

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

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

Multi-dimensional poverty

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

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

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

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

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

Ethical decision-making

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

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

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

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

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

Modern Condition

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

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

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

Symbolic systems

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

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

by Nilantha Ilangamuwa

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Are threats to Buddha Sasana external or from within?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By Dr Upul Wijayawardhana

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Vijaya Kumar: Academic, Activist & Genial Fellow-Traveller

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Professor Vijaya Kumar

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Colombo Telegraph)

By Tissa Jayatilaka

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