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Sri Lanka: What is in store for us?

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by Tissa Jayatilaka

To consider what the future holds for Sri Lanka, a glance at its past and present should prove useful as we could thereby contextualise and perhaps begin to understand what that likely future could be. Unless we look at our past mistakes dispassionately, attempt to learn from them and take meaningful steps to re-chart our national course, we are most likely to continue to allow history to repeat itself.

While it is doubtless true that Sri Lanka, like all other colonized countries, suffered immensely at the hands of those who colonized us, our track record of how our country (or constituent parts of it) has been ruled and governed by some of our own kings and nearly all of our politicians leave much to be desired. Heaping all of the blame for our continuing miseries post- 1948, therefore, on our colonizers and colonial rulers who exploited and plundered us (sometimes with a little help from our ‘nobility’) from 1505-1948, as some tend to do, is to obscure the truth.

We ourselves have contributed lavishly to our own ruin as evidenced by our pre-colonial and post – independence history. That history tells us that, as in some other countries of the world, violence and intrigue have been very much a way of life in Sri Lanka both in centuries gone by and post-independence. Why we as a nation have not overcome these tendencies, is something we need to ponder on, if we are to move beyond such uncivilized conduct.

At the turn of the 20th century, Sri Lankans began to divide along ethnic lines. The brand of Buddhist revivalism of Anagarika Dharmapala supported by Piyadasa Sirisena et al., influenced the circle of Sinhala businessmen who were implicated in the anti-Muslim riots of 1915. From around the 1920s the Sinhala – Tamil relations were on a slippery slope.

The fact that politically shrewd and manipulative British Governors of Ceylon sought to divide and rule us is beside the point; for after all, Ceylon had a sufficient number of educated, experienced and sophisticated political leaders at the time who should have known better than to fall for that colonial bait. The notable Ramanathan brothers who had hitherto spoken and acted in the best interests of the country in collaboration with their Sinhala colleagues, parted ways. They went back to Jaffna and together with a few of their Tamil contemporaries began to work for the betterment of their community.

A little more than a decade and a half later, S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike, who in 1926, upon his return from Oxford, had advocated a federal solution for the political ills arising from ethnic rivalry in the country, established the Sinhala Maha Sabha (1937) which was devoted to the promotion of Sinhala Buddhist interests. Bandaranaike had, like some other westernised Christian politicians, also become, what is referred to as, a Donoughmore Buddhist and donned the national dress. The above referred-to parting of the ways of the Sinhala and Tamil politicians, disturbed the harmony that had prevailed between them in the first two decades of the 20th century.

So we see, that the Sinhala and Tamil politicians were disunited even before we could secure independence from the British. What was infinitely worse was that the Sinhalese and Tamils were divided amongst themselves as well. The upper class and upper caste Sinhalese and their Tamil counterparts, believed that they, by birth and wealth, were superior to the rest of their country men and women.

Within three years after independence, the Sinhala and Tamil politicians split up. Certain members of the GG Ponnambalam-led Tamil Congress left in 1949 to form the Federal Party whilst S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike resigned from the United National Party -led government and formed the Sri Lanka Freedom Party in 1951.

Along with this ethnic division, was the social division based on class and caste. As Howard Wriggins (Wriggins:1960) has noted, Ceylon was made up of two nations, the Sinhala and the Tamil. There were also two other nations—those who spoke English and those who did not. The former was made up of both the public school elite and the western-educated elite. They held significant positions in the public service, the professions, business sector and politics.

The government was carried on in a language the non -English speaking public did not understand. The social divide between the English-educated elite of the urban areas and the rest of the country, especially those in the rural areas, was evident to any sensible observer. At the same time, those Ceylonese who were educated in the English medium, regardless of ethnic differences, bonded together in a way the rest did not.

Despite the above-delineated ethnic and social divisions, post-1948 Ceylon could have emerged as a viable nation united in its diversity. For that to happen, a strong political will was necessary. After nearly four centuries and a half of colonial rule, in the aftermath of independence, there was a need for a revival of indigenous socio-cultural values. And this was admittedly a complex need. However, it was our misfortune, that a majority of the political leaders who guided the destiny of Ceylon at the time, with the possible exception of D.S. Senanayake, had neither the will nor the wisdom required to attempt to bring about an all-embracing national revival and hence succeeded in achieving only a Sinhala Buddhist revival.

Consequently, less than a decade after independence, “1956” came into being on the back of an extreme Sinhala Buddhist nationalism and Ceylon lost whatever was left of the opportunity to forge a pluralist society. We became a country of different ethnicities and religions instead of a robust nation held together by unity in diversity. As the years rolled by thereafter, Sri Lanka became, as the American academic Robert Kearney has put it, an unhappy reminder of the difficulty of maintaining an orderly and peaceful democratic process in a plural society when ethnic loyalties and symbols become central elements of political contention and outcomes are determined on a majoritarian rather than a consociational basis. (Kearney:1985).

The grim and dismal outcome of our missed opportunity to become a rainbow nation, is our painful present predicament. Today we have hit rock-bottom economically and politically. To say that the Sri Lanka of today is in chaos is to state the obvious. Even faced with dire challenges to our very existence as a country, we continue to remain divided as ever, with each of our political outfits clamouring to ride into political power at whatever cost. Each political party has miraculous solutions to our national woes which they “threaten” to implement, as the Rajapakse cabal did whenever elected to office. A need to have a dialogue with the electorate on key issues, prior to an election is, strangely, not deemed important.

In the latter political context, it is useful to recall the damning indictment of our political reality by U.B. Wijekoon, a former prominent politician. In a booklet titled The Curse of Party Politics (no date, probably 2008), Wijekoon tells us that politicians from all backgrounds tend to look at any national problem with the sole intent of seeking an advantage to win elections, disregarding principles and values. Furthermore, he observes that our political party system has wrought havoc by misguiding our society, denying the country of a coherent social fabric and economic equity, and in the process creating grave national instability.

He notes that in Britain, whose political model we have chosen to follow, over a period of five centuries only three political parties came into being, whereas in Sri Lanka, political parties exceeding fifty-nine (59) have been registered within a short span of 60 years. Wijekoon goes onto say that our politicians are not accountable to the people who elect them, and that virtually all of them are guilty of bribery and corruption. With meagre incomes most politicians manage to send their children to international schools in the country and then to universities abroad. What Wijekoon told us in 2008 remains valid even today!

One of the most pressing needs of the day, if we are serious in our intent to resurrect Sri Lanka from the depths to which it has fallen, is to curb and minimize corruption. Corruption as defined by the Malaysian academic Syed Alatas, is the abuse of public trust for personal gain, and it is rife both among our politicians and, tragically, amongst members of our public service as well. Until we implement fully, sans political interference in the judicial process, the existing laws of the land and legislate necessary new laws to combat rampant corruption, it is unlikely that much will change in our country in the years ahead.

Another crucial need, however belatedly, is to make a genuine effort to forge national unity. So long as all of us are not treated as Sri Lankans, regardless of our ethnicity and religion, so long will we continue to flounder as a state nation instead of becoming a nation state. And until Sri Lanka stops discrimination of its citizens on the basis of language and religion, there will not be meaningful and consistent socio-economic development in our thrice-blessed land. Sri Lanka has to curb its militant Sinhala-Buddhist nationalism which, its politicians and a segment of its Buddhist clergy, (contrary to the teachings of the Buddha) are guilty of. Ever since the early 1950s, when the Eksath Bhikku Peramuna (EBP) came into being, Sri Lanka has been plagued by violence against the non-Sinhalese, orchestrated by unscrupulous politicians seeking to win elections by hook or by crook, with the aid of lesser mortals among the Buddhist clergy. This is unacceptable and totally contrary to the ethics and principles enshrined in the Buddha Dhamma.

None of the above can be achieved without a radical reform of our education system. The key element of such a reform should be the teaching of an inclusive History in our schools. The History we are presently taught, even before each of us can begin to distinguish right from wrong, tells us that our non-Sinhala fellow citizens are evil because the Tamil kings of old harmed the Sinhalese or because South Indian Tamils (the Pandyans and the Cholas) invaded us ages ago, between the 9th and 10th centuries; and that Islam poses a threat to Buddhism while Muslim traders and businessmen impoverish their Sinhala counterparts. Surely it is about time, we Sri Lankans shed our primordial prejudices, fears and complexes and learned to live in peace with one another.

In addition to the teaching of such an inclusive History, the future generations should be introduced to the tenets of all the major religions, taught the basics of ethical behaviour as a part of their school curriculum combined with the essence of literature and philosophy to create well-rounded future citizens. In this endeavour, early academic specialization should be discouraged, at least until after the GCE Ordinary Levels.

As Arjuna Hulugalle (The Island; 16 April, 2009) observed almost fifteen years ago, the introduction of tri-lingualism is a must. We have come a long way since Dr. Colvin R. de Silva said, One language two nations; two languages one nation. Important as the two languages Sinhala and Tamil are, they are insufficient today for our purposes. Hence, in addition to teaching both indigenous languages to all Sri Lankan students, they should be taught English because a knowledge-based society needs to have access to the world outside its shores.

Tri-lingualism for Sri Lanka is necessary because language will play an important role in the process of reconciling and uniting all our citizens. Countries like Switzerland, Finland, Canada and Singapore to name but a few, give equal importance to all the languages spoken within their borders.

Our education system should be reformed as outlined above so that Sri Lanka could aspire to inter-ethnic, inter-religious and inter-cultural harmony without which, only further misery will be in store for us in the years to come. These changes to our educational system, though essential, can only produce results after many years. Among the short to medium-term measures that could be adopted to address the anomalies in our system, the following could be considered essential and immediate:

· Merit-based selection for all public service appointments;

· The conferment of equal status to all national languages, religions and citizens;

· Gender equality; and,

· The strict application of the laws of the land to all citizens irrespective of their social and political status.



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Coercive laws recipe for future misrule

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by Jehan Perera

The NPP government is going after powerful figures from the past and present who have engaged in corruption, fraud and criminal activity in a way that no previous government in Sri Lanka has done. Former ministers, politicians and senior state officials are among those facing investigations and legal proceedings. The government has placed before Parliament a document listing 50 cases involving corruption, fraud and other crimes. These include not only financial offences but also cases relating to the Easter Sunday attacks, the killings of Lasantha Wickrematunge and Wasim Thajudeen, the disappearance of Prageeth Ekneligoda and attacks on journalists Keith Noyahr and Upali Tennakoon.

The significance of this effort is that it can demonstrate that nobody is above the law, regardless of political connections or social standing, which will help restore public confidence in institutions that have long been distrusted. It could also recover public resources, improve the investment climate and strengthen the foundations for a more prosperous and just Sri Lanka. When criticised for focusing on the past and not the present, the government position is that these investigations were initiated under earlier governments, particularly between 2015 and 2019, and that it is now allowing investigators to proceed to deal with the backlog without political interference.

But there is an aspect of the government’s approach that is less justifiable. While pursuing past wrongdoing by powerful individuals, it is also advancing a triumvirate of draft laws that could give the state sweeping powers over citizens, organisations and dissent in the present and future. The draft Prevention of Terrorism legislation, the Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill and the NGO Registration and Supervision Bill raise serious questions about the over-centralisation of power. Each of these laws strengthens the powers of the state while weakening the rights and safeguards that protect people from their misuse and thus questions the basic rights of people in democracy where ‘the power of the people is vested in the government’. This is a recipe for future misrule rather than the rule of law. As the well-known saying goes, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Proposed Laws

The real test of system change, for which the government obtained an overwhelming mandate, requires not only a government willing to hold others accountable, but one prepared to subject itself to the same principles of legality, transparency and restraint. The three proposed laws that are particularly important in this regard are the Protection of the State from Terrorism Bill, the Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill and the NGO Registration and Supervision Bill. Each of these draft laws has been presented as serving a legitimate purpose. Preventing terrorism, combating organised crime and ensuring that NGOs do not facilitate money laundering or terrorist financing are proper responsibilities of the state. Sri Lanka has international obligations in these areas, and no responsible government can disregard them. However, the existence of a legitimate objective does not justify every means adopted to achieve it.

The proposed Protection of the State from Terrorism Bill illustrates the problem. Although its definition of terrorism draws on a model developed by a former United Nations Special Rapporteur, the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka has warned that the definition of terrorism extends beyond the model and could bring legitimate political protest, trade union action and civil disobedience within the scope of counter-terrorism legislation. Its concerns also include prolonged detention, inadequate judicial oversight and restrictions on access to legal counsel. These are objections that go to the heart of the relationship between the citizen and the state. The government cannot credibly promise to protect democratic freedoms while creating powers that could be used to restrict them. It is necessary for the government to reassess the draft through transparent consultation and revise provisions that could criminalise legitimate dissent.

The Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill raises similar concerns. It is presented as giving effect to the United Nations Convention against Transnational Organised Crime, which Sri Lanka ratified in 2006. The Centre for Policy Alternatives (CPA) has argued that the convention does not require many of the bill’s provisions. The proposed law extends to a broad range of offences, permits detention orders lasting up to a year, makes confessions to police admissible for purposes of legal evidence, and introduces extensive surveillance powers. A law intended to dismantle criminal networks should not create a parallel system of exceptional powers that could be applied far beyond organised crime. Nor should safeguards developed through years of experience with abuses under the Prevention of Terrorism Act be weakened through legislation bearing a different name. The government should review whether or not existing laws could be used effectively to control these crimes or whether each exceptional power is necessary.

Civil Society

The proposed NGO Registration and Supervision Bill presents another test of the government’s intentions. The government may reasonably seek transparency in the finances of organisations receiving public or foreign funds, including measures to prevent money laundering and terrorist financing. It seeks to justify its overreach on the grounds of meeting the internationally mandated requirements of the Financial Action Task Force (FATF) for the Asia-Pacific region. But these objectives do not justify placing civil society and NGOs under excessive administrative control when even the FATF ranks them as low to medium risks. The draft bill would require registration and renewal, impose extensive obligations on organisations and empower authorities to suspend or deregister them on broadly framed grounds. It is important to redraft provisions that confer excessive discretion over registration, renewal, suspension and deregistration of NGOs.

Among the concerns raised by United Nations human rights special rapporteurs with regard to the draft NGO law are provisions requiring organisations to align with government policies and restrictions that could affect advocacy, dissent and freedom of association. The implications extend well beyond organisations that engage directly with the government. Community groups, human rights organisations, independent researchers and organisations working on reconciliation or accountability could find their activities constrained by uncertainty over how these provisions might be interpreted. Organisations that criticise government policies are not thereby working against the country. Their freedom to do so is part of what distinguishes a democracy from a system in which the government determines which opinions and activities are acceptable.

The government has generated considerable public goodwill through its pursuit of corruption and criminality. It should not assume that this goodwill gives it an unlimited mandate to strengthen the coercive powers of the state. The NPP knows from its own history that governments can treat dissent as a threat and use the machinery of the state against their opponents. There is still time to correct the drafts through transparent public consultation, narrow definitions of offences, meaningful judicial control over detention and surveillance, and effective remedies against arbitrary decisions. A government that pursues corruption while weakening safeguards against state abuse risks undermining its own achievements. Besides bringing to light the abuse of power by previous governments, the NPP government needs to build a system in which no future government can abuse power in the belief they can get away with it.

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Quality assurance without quality enhancement: The irony of university QA

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By Ramya Kumar

According to the Quality Assurance Council (QAC) of the University Grants Commission (UGC), quality assurance (QA) refers to “the means (i.e. the policies, attitudes, actions, procedures, etc.), by which an institution can guarantee with confidence and certainty, that the standards and quality of its educational provision are being maintained and enhanced”.

An expansive structure has been in place since 2005 to govern and implement QA processes within the state university system. The QAC is the focal point at the UGC that implements external reviews of state universities and institutes. Each university has its own Centre for Quality Assurance (CQA) tasked with performing QA in line with QAC directives. Faculties, in turn, have Internal Quality Assurance Cells (IQAC) performing their own QA; they are answerable to the CQA.

The big question is whether this all-encompassing top-down QA system, that in many ways undermines the internal dynamics of university governance, actually supports universities to enhance the quality of education. This article highlights some concerns.

Top-down check-box activities

The QAC conducts external reviews of universities and degree programmes. A review team appointed by the UGC (who may or may not have experience in the institution/programme in question) examines the self-evaluation report submitted by the said institution/programme. The team then conducts a site visit to verify the claims made in the university’s self-evaluation report, clarify issues identified during the desk review, and examine how QA procedures operate in practice. The team holds meetings with the university administration, members of the Council and Senate, Deans, Heads of Departments, academic and non-academic staff, students, and others. Following the visit, a draft report is submitted to the relevant institution/programme for comment before final publication. The reviewed institution/programme then prepares and publishes an action plan addressing the recommendations, with subsequent monitoring of progress.

There are some worthy QA initiatives under implementation, such as improving facilities for students with disabilities and strengthening mechanisms to address sexual- and gender-based violence. However, for the most part, QA activities have little to do with improving the quality of education. They are mostly preoccupied with monitoring faculty and department websites, digital transformation, student feedback, subject evaluation, course evaluation, peer evaluation, and, more recently, staff appraisal. These activities, which consume an inordinate amount of time—so precious at understaffed universities—have become check-box activities completed to generate evidence for the next review. Below is an excerpt of a conversation between two academics (1 and 2) that conveys how QA plays out at universities (reproduced with permission).

1: … .it’s like social media you know, like posting things on Facebook or twitter or Instagram. When people do a lot of social media, everything they do, they do thinking, “okay I’m going to post it in this way… this I have to put on my Instagram.” QA is a little like that… everything is considered in light of, “ah we can use this for the review, as evidence… for example very recently we were encouraged to have all the things that we do in our department in the faculty newsletter so then they can put in the review. Every little thing has to be noted down….

2: And with pictures and all…

1: At the very least it has to be written so that you have written evidence .. you can’t be doing something for the sake of doing something or because it is good for the department … and sometimes people tell me “oh yea that’s a good idea we can fit that under this x, y section of the review..”

2: Yea, and nobody really thinks about the actual outcome… whether it’s actually helping anyone..

1: I also find that a lot of the words that we used in different ways have now been co-opted to the QA discourse ..including quality.. I can’t actually say what I want as an “outcome”, for example, that the outcome of this workshop is that my students “think about” … then I am told “ah but no that’s not one of the Bloom’s taxonomy words, “think about”.…

2: And the worst part is these medical and agriculture people, these types of people go around spreading it like some kind of gospel!

1: Yea, this cookie cutter way of doing things, they think is the height of innovativeness or creativity, when actually it is so mundane … for me the most awful thing about it is like some fungus of mundanity has taken over through QA reviews.

2: yea, when you say QA, my mind closes off immediately and I stop listening…

Auditing everything but power

QA leaves out crucial aspects of university governance. For instance, there is no review or assessment of the “quality” of university administrations under Criterion 1 or the integrity of procedures governing the promotion of academic staff under Criterion 6 of the institutional reviews.

The majority in the Council—the university’s executive and governing body, which is responsible for selecting the Vice-Chancellor (VC)—are appointed in ad hoc fashion. Apart from the Ex-Officio members in the Council (VC, Deans, etc.), and the two members elected by the Senate, the remainder are appointed by the UGC with no formal consultation or vetting procedure. The VC appointment process described in UGC Circular No. 03/2023 exemplifies how an ostensibly technical process can become entangled in political sycophancy. The Registrar invites applications for the position of VC through advertisement. Applicants must submit a curriculum vitae, a statement of vision for the university and supporting documents. The University Council appoints a three-member Search Committee of senior academics to encourage “eminent persons” to apply, while the UGC appoints a former VC from another university to “observe” the selection process.

A Special Meeting of the University Council is convened. Candidates are interviewed and must make a presentation to the Council Members, followed by questions. Each Council member “gives marks” for seven prescribed criteria: strategic focus (20%), effective leadership (20%), holistic thinking/conceptual skills (10%), academic and research excellence (15%), personal integrity (10%), professional communication (10%) and managerial competence (15%). Marks are averaged, and the Council recommends three candidates to the UGC in rank order. The UGC-appointed observer separately submits a confidential report on the selection process.

This procedure is expected to guarantee quality, but does it? Applications are submitted to the Council Members, who have been appointed on questionable bases, and who are expected to review the applications and give scores, based on objective assessments. But, in reality, most Council Members are manipulated by VC candidates, who often have personal ties with them. The UGC-appointed observer usually has no genuine interest in the outcome. And there is no way for anyone to actually question the Council’s decision once it is made. Although the highest-ranked candidate may ultimately be appointed, the selection remains a political decision made by the President, who retains the discretion to appoint any one of the three.

External reviews also do not look into the promotions of academic staff, except to scrutinise whether there are policies and procedures in place to govern promotion. Academic staff may apply for promotion to Professor once they satisfy the prescribed eligibility requirements, which typically include the period of service, academic qualifications, research and publication achievements, teaching experience, and contributions to the university and wider community. Applications are evaluated against specified criteria, with research output and academic contributions assessed through documentary evidence and expert evaluation. Under the UGC’s scheme for Professors, two experts from outside the applicant’s institution assess specified aspects of research and knowledge dissemination. Again, beneath this technical process, which is externally evaluated, lies a problematic points-based scheme that can be manipulated and abused with impunity.

Rethinking university QA

Like the VC election process and the schemes of promotion for academic staff, QA reviews are open to manipulation. Before a review, there is a chaotic rush to complete evidence gathering and reporting. Academics leave all other work aside, including at times their teaching, to focus on completing documentation and preparing reports. The standardised criteria in the review manuals and scoring sheets often do not reflect differences in disciplines and institutional contexts. But this does not really matter because any serious problems experienced by institutions or programmes are hastily brushed under the carpet to conceal any evidence that could taint the review. The goal is to obtain an A or at least a B grade at whatever cost.

QA may result in positive change if it moves beyond top-down check-box activities towards internally designed and owned processes encompassing all aspects of university governance, led by departments and faculties, and supported by adequate resources. The current QA system needs to be dismantled and replaced by procedures that are accountable, not to the UGC, but to our students and the communities we serve.

(Ramya Kumar is attached to the Department of Community and Family Medicine, Faculty of Medicine, University of Jaffna)

. Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.

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Down Memory Lane — the Grand 20th Edition!

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Down Memory Lane: Ready to sing again

Yes, Down Memory Lane, the beloved Sing-Along concert series that first struck a chord, way back in 1997, returns for its landmark 20th edition this Saturday, 17th October, at the beautiful Bolgoda Grand Resort, Moratuwa town centre.

Having celebrated its glorious 25th anniversary with the show in 2023, this milestone 20th concert promises to be even more special.

The organisers, the ever-popular Moratuwa Arts Forum, are pulling out all the stops to present yet another unforgettable evening, brimming with camaraderie, fellowship, and pure nostalgia.

Get ready for two-and-a-half hours of non-stop singing as veteran vocalists, from the Moratuwa Arts Forum, will take the stage to lead and inspire the happy audience to sing, sing and sing to their hearts’ content.

The repertoire? Absolutely magical, according to the organisers.

Veteran Arun Dias Bandaranaike: Will handle the evening’s proceedings / Priya Peiris: Event Conceptor

Around 40 golden oldies — from timeless English vintage evergreens and hits from the 50s to the 90s, to toe-tapping calypsos, soulful American plantation melodies, rousing cowboy and Dixieland favourites, aa well as cherished Sinhala standards. All to be sung with much gusto!

This year’s dedicated organising committee comprises Brian Coorey (Chairman), Priya Peiris (Event Conceptor), Hiran Fernando, Suranga Fernando, Viranjan Perera, Hemka Fernando and Neelesh Silva. Guidance and support comes from Moratuwa Arts Forum President Sarana Guneratne and Secretary Chandani Silva.

Adding his signature charm to the evening, as Master of Ceremonies, will be the veteran Arun Dias Bandaranaike.

Don’t miss this landmark celebration of music and memories!

For further details, contact Hiran Fernando on 0772636446 or WhatsApp 0783636446.

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