Features
Susil in Politics: Some inside stories
Remarkable astrological predictions
by Sumi Moonesinghe narrated to Savithri Rodrigo
Having built up one of the biggest businesses in the country from scratch with the help of Maha and Killi (Maharaja), and of course Susil, and then selling it for a substantial price sealed the end of a very eventful chapter for me. Susil was my rock, always there to guide and advise me and to comfort me when things went wrong. But his strong political ambitions were not far from the surface and it was just a matter of time before we all became enmeshed in politics.
I was introduced to politics by Susil, whose wide network of political friends and alliances also meant that we were always engaged in long political discussions. He was a great guru and I a good student. Susil absorbed politics into his very being. From our early days in Singapore, I would listen, discuss and debate politics with him. I remember how he studied the successful transformation of Singapore under the leadership of Lee Kuan Yew incessantly, while we were in that country and even after, very enamoured with Lee’s brand of politics.

Lee was Prime Minister of Singapore for 31 years and his political pragmatism was hailed globally. He was credited with transforming Singapore from a third world to a first world country but was an outspoken critic of the western ideal of democracy. Susil’s leftist ideas resonated well with Lee’s ideology but I have always been a great believer that a good left and right balance is the key to good governance. Eventually, Susil began thinking on these lines and I like to think it was I who converted him!
As the 1977 elections drew near, Susil, who had worked hard for the SLFP government in earlier years, was fully involved with the opposition UNP. Having seen Mrs. Bandaranaike’s socialist policies reduce the country to depths unimaginable, there was renewed vigour to work towards electing a more pragmatic, open economy-oriented UNP government. Prior to the elections therefore, our home became ‘election central’. Susil was working closely with the UNP top guns J R Jayewardene, Ranasinghe Premadasa, Lalith Athulathmudali and Gamini Dissanayake, who all became close friends and would end up at our home, discussing issues and strategies well into the night.
Often there were times when J R would invite us for coffee to his home at Ward Place for some nocturnal discussions. He was 70 years old and had amassed a wealth of political experience and knowledge. Wickrama Weerasooria, who would eventually become Anarkali’s father-in-law, and Gamini Dissanayake would most often be at these little informal chats, and quite a young Ranil Wickremesinghe too.
It was at our home over dinner one day that I remember J R casually mentioning he would be removing Mrs. Bandaranaike’s civic rights. We were utterly and truly shocked. This was unheard of and could be construed as vengeful and manipulative. This would also mean Mrs. Bandaranaike, who would be the Leader of the Opposition if J R won, would be expelled from parliament. This wouldn’t augur well for Sri Lanka’s democracy and I remember each of us at the table, Gamini, Susil and I, vociferously voicing our opposition to the removal of her civic rights. Elina, J R’s wife who was also at the dinner, looked at J R very sternly and said, “Dicky, don’t ever do that!”
But J R wouldn’t listen and went ahead. It was not just Mrs. Bandaranaike who lost her civic rights. He extended that diktat to two of her most powerful acolytes as well –former Permanent Secretary to the Ministry of Justice Nihal Jayawickrama and former Cabinet Minister Felix Dias Bandaranaike who were both eminent lawyers. J R impounded their passports and appointed a Special Presidential Commission of Inquiry to investigate alleged abuse and/or misuse of power by the Bandaranaike Government.
The proceedings and findings seemed one-sided and almost vindictive, and with the imposition of civic disabilities, Sirimavo, Nihal and Felix were prohibited from seeking election to parliament, holding any public office or engaging in any political work including making political speeches. They were thus banned from politics for a total of seven years. This was so wrong and went against the fundamental principles of democracy. It is the voters who decide on their elected officials, and permanent secretaries like Nihal, carry out orders given by the elected minister.
It was in 1974, a few years prior to the 1977 elections that I met Gamini Dissanayake, while Mrs. Bandaranaike was yet in power and the country was going through some upheavals. Susil and I had friends in both major political parties – there was Sivali Ratwatte and Upali Wijewardene who strongly supported Mrs. B (as she was called), and J R, Gamini, Lalith and Premadasa who were movers and shakers in the UNP.
Mrs. B had already extended her term by two years and was becoming quite dictatorial. Mrs. B’s son Anura was also among our circle of friends, but he remained non-partisan, although J R was constantly enticing Anura to cross over to the UNP. During the Kalawewa by-election in 1974, J R and Premadasa wanted Anura to get into Parliament. Multiple meetings were held at our home and J R assured Anura that the UNP would not put forward a candidate if Anura contested.
However, the procedure wasn’t that simple. First, the SLFP, which was Anura’s mother’s party, had to nominate Anura as their candidate. Given the relationship, we figured this would be merely procedure; after all, Anura was of Bandaranaike lineage and the Prime Minister’s son. When the SLFP nomination committee sat to make a decision, we assembled at Anuruddha Ratwatte’s home near the Army Headquarters waiting for the results from the nomination board.
But, to our complete surprise, the nomination committee selected an unknown entity to represent the SLFP at the by-elections. The Committee comprised S W R D Bandaranaike’s stalwarts. It was clear that Mrs. B had made it known to them that Anura may become J R’s pawn if he won the election. Anura was inconsolable when he heard the news, quite unable to comprehend being let down by his own mother so publicly.
No sooner had the news been communicated, Sivali’s wife Cuckoo promptly took Anura and his sister Chandrika’s horoscopes and went to visit Mr. Arulpragasam, the astrologer who lived at Station Road, Nugegoda. Having studied the horoscopes for a few minutes, Mr. Arulpragasam looked at Anura’s horoscope and said, “This one will never become anything more than a minister,” but pointed to Chandrika’s and said, “Now, this one will go right to the top!” His words were prophetic. While Anura did eventually get into Parliament but only as Speaker of the House, twenty years after the prediction in 1994, Chandrika was sworn in as Sri Lanka’s fifth President.
Susil was a pragmatist and being a voracious reader, a fount of information and knowledge. This helped him immensely in carving out a successful political career which was well matched with his language capabilities and I should say, handsome looks too. He was elected Chief Minister of the Western Province in 1988, a post he held until 1993. He was Leader of the Opposition of the Provincial Council in 1994, and then went on to become a Member of Parliament for the Colombo District from 2000 to 2002.
Sri Lanka was continuing to grapple with the murderous deeds of the LTTE. Realizing the futility of reasoning with a terrorist organisation, J R decided to enlist the help of the Indian government to quell the LTTE. It was widely believed that Tamil Nadu was quite a hotbed for LTTE supporters and J R needed to get the support of the Indian government to help regain peace in the country. Thus began the discussions for the Indo-Sri Lanka Peace Accord which was signed on July 29. 1987, between Indian Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi and J R, enabling the 13th Amendment to Sri Lanka’s Constitution.
The Amendment included the devolution of power to the provinces, a withdrawal of troops and the LTTE to surrender arms. India sent in a Peace Keeping Force to help literally, with keeping the peace. However, the LTTE had not been involved in the talks and before long, the uneasy truce flared into active confrontation. In retaliation, Rajiv Gandhi would eventually be assassinated by a female LTTE suicide bomber, four years after the signing of that accord.
In fact, J R handed me the 13,h Amendment and asked me to read it prior to it being passed. This Amendment was a result of the 1987 Indo-Sri Lanka Accord which was brokered by Rajiv Gandhi, with the diktat for full devolution of power to north and east. J R decided to expand the devolution of power to all nine provinces, creating the provincial councils in Sri Lanka. As a result, parliamentarians’ work was reduced drastically, which meant that the number of MPs could easily be reduced to no more than 100.
When I pointed out this fact to him, he replied, “I agree, but I have to keep everybody happy.” Also the provincial council structure introduced a whole new type of politician and with each successive government, “keeping everyone happy,” became the norm. The trend of large cabinets of useless people crept in. We now have a 225-member Parliament.
Gamini, who played a pivotal role in the Indo-Lanka Peace Accord had become very powerful, with the Indians holding him in high esteem due to the role he played. One of the perks of this recognition was being given the full ‘red carpet’ treatment to see Indian guru Satya Sai Baba, who had built up an impressive following of millions around the world. These followers would throng his residence in Puttaparthi in Andra Pradesh in the hope of getting an audience with the great teacher. So when Gamini was invited to see Baba, we joined him on that trip and when we sat in the same room as Baba, it was quite otherworldly.
Baba’s ‘acts of divinity’ are argued by some to be a sleight of hand, but nevertheless they were impressive. He would magically bring out gifts, presenting various items to those he deemed special. Susil was summoned as well and given a photograph. Tiny, Wickrama’s son was asked to join Baba in another room and came out a few minutes later, smiling. But he refused to tell us anything at the time. Many years later, Tiny divulged that Baba said, “Your future wife is in this room with you!” Now I’m not sure if Tiny concocted that story —that’s what he says Baba told him. Nevertheless as a result of this trip, Gamini’s family and ours are intertwined for life. Rohini, who is Gamini’s eldest sister is Tiny’s mother.
During this period, Susil was Chief Minister of the Western Province and Sri Lanka was battling a war on two fronts —the LTTE and the JVP — Tamil Tiger rebels in the north and the Marxist student rebels in the south. At the height of the JVP insurrection in 1988, parliamentary elections were announced and Susil began campaigning from the Colombo District for the Avissawella seat. Our home was filled with party supporters and security detail because the violence in the country was unrelenting. Not a day went by without an innocent person being senselessly and viciously killed by the JVP, or a bomb or assassination by the LTTE. The JVP’s quest was to kill Government officials or those who were supportive of the Government in order to bring the Government to its knees. But none deserved to die. These were all people who were simply doing their job.
As a result, Susil’s life was also under threat which meant we had security details — men walking around with guns — in our house 24×7. I hated it. This exacerbated the fact that we were living in fear and that is when we decided to move the girls to Singapore as they were missing out on school as well. Schools in Colombo had been shut down due to the continuing violence.
With Susil campaigning with gusto, our house once again turned into Grand Central Station, with endless cups of tea, lunches and dinners being served to hundreds of supporters and party activists. I was juggling multiple roles as my business too was at its peak; thank goodness for my domestic staff who kept the wheels turning in my home very efficiently.
Just as Susil had given me unstinted support in building up my business, I reciprocated when it came to his political work. I dived straight into his campaign, accompanying him to his rallies, helping with his speeches and giving him as much support as I could. I walked around the villages he went to, chatting with the people, finding out about their lives and families.
On one occasion, I struck up a conversation with a rubber tapper, a woman whose work day began at dawn. This meant her daughter had to wait at home for her return later in the day for a meal. “How can your daughter stay hungry until you get back home?” I asked. Having no inkling of who I was, she said, “I buy Anchor milk. When I give her that, the child is not hungry and doesn’t cry until I return. I have tried other types of milk powder but they don’t work the same way.”
On hearing this, when I got back to office I telephoned NZDB and shared the information I heard from the rubber tapper. “How can Anchor milk keep her daughter from hunger, when other milks don’t?” Their reply was, “Most milk powder in your market has 26% fat. But Anchor has 28.5% fat. So when the fat content is higher, it is richer and more filling.” Realising the power of our differentiation, I called my Anchor A team and gave them this titbit of information. The result was this slogan: “All we do is remove the water. All you do is add the water.”
Of all Sri Lanka’s leaders I’ve engaged with, it was President Ranasinghe Premadasa who was my hero. He never forgot what it was like to be poor and would always judge a person on the depth of that knowledge. If any consultant came to him with a theory, the first questions he would ask were, “Have you walked barefoot? Have you ever slept on the ground? Have you ever gone without a meal? If you haven’t done any of those things, you can’t work for me.” His method of management was to let the bureaucracy run the country while he envisioned the future. “Ministers should not be involved in day-to-day operations,” was his wise counsel. He was a man of action and a son of the soil.
One of the projects on which I worked closely with him was his Gam Udawa (village reawakening) housing development project, which he launched in 1983 when the United Nations declared 1987 as the International Year of Shelter for the Homeless. He gave himself four years – from 1983 to 1987 –to meet his target of constructing 100,000 houses for the poor. This was an ambitious undertaking but Premadasa was never deterred by the expanse of his vision.
This vision for giving shelter to the poor went beyond simply giving houses. He added a participatory approach, increasing dynamism and vigour to village development with the people deciding on the size and shape of their abodes and contributing material and labour when feasible, with the government providing land and financial assistance. He believed strongly in the Maslow theory of the hierarchy of needs, and felt that fundamental needs had to be met for human beings to get to the next rung. His switched to a state-aided housing development philosophy – ‘of the people, for the people, by the people’ – which was an instant success.
His beginnings were in poverty and he understood the poor man and the way their minds worked. And he was a problem solver. When he first made his declaration of constructing the 100,000 houses, his fellow ministers scoffed at the idea and were reluctant to give him support. In fact, Ronnie de Mel, who was Finance Minister at the time, didn’t allocate money from the budget for the housing programme. Undeterred, Premadasa launched the Sevana Lottery – his solution to giving poor people a roof over their heads. The income from the lottery would fund his project.
Susil and I were very supportive of President Premadasa’s projects because these appealed to our ‘giving’ conscience, strengthening the belief that the giving had to be sustainable and have the buy-in of the recipient. We worked very closely with him, never missing his Gam Udawa launches and even taking J R with us in some instances.
On April 30, 1993 having attended a meeting, Susil and President Premadasa were driving back in the same car. Premadasa turned to Susil and asked, “Susil, are you afraid to die right now?” Susil said, “No,” although he thought it was a rather strange question. It almost seemed as if the President had a premonition of what was to come. That was the last conversation Susil had with him.
The next morning – May Day 1993 – my astrologer, who was in Melbourne, made a desperate telephone call to me asking me to not allow Susil to leave the house. I knew Susil was joining President Premadasa at the May Day Rally and while not telling him about what the astrologer said, I tried my best to make excuses and finally pleaded with him not to leave home.
I kept delaying his departure but he wasn’t listening to my pleas. To placate me he said, “I’ll go to the meeting and be back soon.” He left the house around 12.45 pm and was near the Eye Hospital in Borella when he was informed about the blast which killed President Premadasa. A suicide bomber, who was later identified as an LTTE suicide cadre named Babu had detonated the bomb, killing the President, 17 others and himself. It was that call from my astrologer that saved Susil’s life that day.
Sometime earlier, Premadasa had made D B Wijetunge his Prime Minister. This was quite shocking as it was very apparent that he was side-lining the party strongmen Lalith Athulathmudali and Gamini Dissanayake. Hence, when Premadasa was killed, it was D B Wijetunge who was sworn in as President. Ranil Wickremesinghe was appointed Prime Minister.
The wheels of politics continued to turn in this country despite bombs and assassinations. When Gamini became the presidential candidate for the UNP in the 1994 election, I predicted he wouldn’t win. The country had gone through 17 years of UNP rule and was ripe for change. Nevertheless, both Susil and I put our heart and soul into Gamini’s campaign. Susil was at every single one of Gamini’s campaign rallies.
One day, I wanted Susil to return early from one of those rallies as I had a function to attend. He acquiesced, went to the meeting, delivered his speech and returned home, a little before Gamini arrived at the meeting. Normally, Susil would greet Gamini and stay on with him until Gamini left the meeting.
Just as Gamini got to the rally at Thotalanga, he telephoned our home and asked me where Susil was. I explained that Susil had delivered his speech and since I had to go out, he was on his way home.
A short while later, the phone rang again. I don’t remember who was on the other end but I remember going limp. “A bomb has gone off and Gamini is in hospital.” A suicide bomber had detonated herself at the meeting in retaliation for Gamini’s involvement in the bombing of the Jaffna Library. Susil had just returned and we rushed to the hospital. Not long after, Gamini was pronounced dead.
Meanwhile, Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga had ousted the UNP in the Provincial Council Elections and become Chief Minister of the Western Province. From then on, her stars were lined up and she became unstoppable. She would eventually become Prime Minister and then the first female President of Sri Lanka, just as Mr. Arulpragasam had predicted two decades ago.
Our dear friends – Lalith Athulathmudali in April 1993, Ranasinghe Premadasa in May 1993 and Gamini Dissanayake in October 1994 – were all dead, just one-and-a-half years of each other. We had by now lost all those leaders who were capable of taking the country forward – either the JVP or the LTTE had killed them. When Gamini died, I felt like life couldn’t get any worse. But then, I told myself that the cycle of life must go on. We who survive do so for some purpose.
Features
The invisible crisis: How tour guide failures bleed value from every tourist
(Article 04 of the 04-part series on Sri Lanka’s tourism stagnation)
If you want to understand why Sri Lanka keeps leaking value even when arrivals hit “record” numbers, stop staring at SLTDA dashboards and start talking to the people who face tourists every day: the tour guides.
They are the “unofficial ambassadors” of Sri Lankan tourism, and they are the weakest, most neglected, most dysfunctional link in a value chain we pretend is functional. Nearly 60% of tourists use guides. Of those guides, 57% are unlicensed, untrained, and invisible to the very institutions claiming to regulate quality. This is not a marginal problem. It is a systemic failure to bleed value from every visitor.
The Invisible Workforce
The May 2024 “Comprehensive Study of the Sri Lankan Tour Guides” is the first serious attempt, in decades, to map this profession. Its findings should be front-page news. They are not, because acknowledging them would require admitting how fundamentally broken the system is. The official count (April 2024): SLTDA had 4,887 licensed guides in its books:
* 1,892 National Guides (39%)
* 1,552 Chauffeur Guides (32%)
* 1,339 Area Guides (27%)
* 104 Site Guides (2%)
The actual workforce: Survey data reveals these licensed categories represent only about 75% of people actually guiding tourists. About 23% identify as “other”; a polite euphemism for unlicensed operators: three-wheeler drivers, “surf boys,” informal city guides, and touts. Adjusted for informal operators, the true guide population is approximately 6,347; 32% National, 25% Chauffeur, 16% Area, 4% Site, and 23% unlicensed.
But even this understates reality. Industry practitioners interviewed in the study believe the informal universe is larger still, with unlicensed guides dominating certain tourist hotspots and price-sensitive segments. Using both top-down (tourist arrivals × share using guides) and bottom-up (guides × trips × party size) estimates, the study calculates that approximately 700,000 tourists used guides in 2023-24, roughly one-third of arrivals. Of those 700,000 tourists, 57% were handled by unlicensed guides.
Read that again. Most tourists interacting with guides are served by people with no formal training, no regulatory oversight, no quality standards, and no accountability. These are the “ambassadors” shaping visitor perceptions, driving purchasing decisions, and determining whether tourists extend stays, return, or recommend Sri Lanka. And they are invisible to SLTDA.
The Anatomy of Workforce Failure
The guide crisis is not accidental. It is the predictable outcome of decades of policy neglect, regulatory abdication, and institutional indifference.
1. Training Collapse and Barrier to Entry Failure
Becoming a licensed National Guide theoretically requires:
* Completion of formal training programmes
* Demonstrated language proficiency
* Knowledge of history, culture, geography
* Passing competency exams
In practice, these barriers have eroded. The study reveals:
* Training infrastructure is inadequate and geographically concentrated
* Language requirements are inconsistently enforced
* Knowledge assessments are outdated and poorly calibrated
* Continuous professional development is non-existent
The result: even licensed guides often lack the depth of knowledge, language skills, or service standards that high-yield tourists expect. Unlicensed guides have no standards at all. Compare this to competitors. In Mauritius, tour guides undergo rigorous government-certified training with mandatory refresher courses. The Maldives’ resort model embeds guide functions within integrated hospitality operations with strict quality controls. Thailand has well-developed private-sector training ecosystems feeding into licensed guide pools.
2. Economic Precarity and Income Volatility
Tour guiding in Sri Lanka is economically unstable:
* Seasonal income volatility: High earnings in peak months (December-March), near-zero in low season (April-June, September)
* No fixed salaries: Most guides work freelance or commission-based
* Age and experience don’t guarantee income: 60% of guides are over 40, but earnings decline with age due to physical demands and market preference for younger, language-proficient guides
* Commission dependency: Guides often earn more from commissions on shopping, gem purchases, and restaurant referrals than from guiding fees
The commission-driven model pushes guides to prioritise high-commission shops over meaningful experiences, leaving tourists feeling manipulated. With low earnings and poor incentives, skilled guides exist in the profession while few new entrants join. The result is a shrinking pool of struggling licensed guides and rising numbers of opportunistic unlicensed operators.
3. Regulatory Abdication and Unlicensed Proliferation
Unlicensed guides thrive because enforcement is absent, economic incentives favour avoiding fees and taxes, and tourists cannot distinguish licensed professionals from informal operators. With SLTDA’s limited capacity reducing oversight, unregistered activity expands. Guiding becomes the frontline where regulatory failure most visibly harms tourist experience and sector revenues in Sri Lanka.
4. Male-Dominated, Ageing, Geographically Uneven Workforce
The guide workforce is:
* Heavily male-dominated: Fewer than 10% are women
* Ageing: 60% are over 40; many in their 50s and 60s
* Geographically concentrated: Clustered in Colombo, Galle, Kandy, Cultural Triangle—minimal presence in emerging destinations
This creates multiple problems:
* Gender imbalance: Limits appeal to female solo travellers and certain market segments (wellness tourism, family travel with mothers)
* Physical limitations: Older guides struggle with demanding itineraries (hiking, adventure tourism)
* Knowledge ossification: Ageing workforce with no continuous learning rehashes outdated narratives, lacks digital literacy, cannot engage younger tourist demographics
* Regional gaps: Emerging destinations (Eastern Province, Northern heritage sites) lack trained guide capacity
1. Experience Degradation Lower Spending
Unlicensed guides lack knowledge, language skills, and service training. Tourist experience degrades. When tourists feel they are being shuttled to commission shops rather than authentic experiences, they:
* Cut trips short
* Skip additional paid activities
* Leave negative reviews
* Do not return or recommend
The yield impact is direct: degraded experiences reduce spending, return rates, and word-of-mouth premium.

2. Commission Steering → Value Leakage
Guides earning more from commissions than guiding fees optimise for merchant revenue, not tourist satisfaction.
This creates leakage: tourism spending flows to merchants paying highest commissions (often with foreign ownership or imported inventory), not to highest-quality experiences.
The economic distortion is visible: gems, souvenirs, and low-quality restaurants generate guide commissions while high-quality cultural sites, local artisan cooperatives, and authentic restaurants do not. Spending flows to low-value, high-leakage channels.
3. Safety and Security Risks → Reputation Damage
Unlicensed guides have no insurance, no accountability, no emergency training. When tourists encounter problems, accidents, harassment, scams, there is no recourse. Incidents generate negative publicity, travel advisories, reputation damage. The 2024-2025 reports of tourists being attacked by wildlife at major sites (Sigiriya) with inadequate safety protocols are symptomatic. Trained, licensed guides would have emergency protocols. Unlicensed operators improvise.
4. Market Segmentation Failure → Yield Optimisation Impossible
High-yield tourists (luxury, cultural immersion, adventure) require specialised guide-deep knowledge, language proficiency, cultural sensitivity. Sri Lanka cannot reliably deliver these guides at scale because:
* Training does not produce specialists (wildlife experts, heritage scholars, wellness practitioners)
* Economic precarity drives talent out
* Unlicensed operators dominate price-sensitive segments, leaving limited licensed capacity for premium segments
We cannot move upmarket because we lack the workforce to serve premium segments. We are locked into volume-chasing low-yield markets because that is what our guide workforce can provide.
The way forward
Fixing Sri Lanka’s guide crisis demands structural reform, not symbolic gestures. A full workforce census and licensing audit must map the real guide population, identify gaps, and set an enforcement baseline. Licensing must be mandatory, timebound, and backed by inspections and penalties. Economic incentives should reward professionalism through fair wages, transparent fees, and verified registries. Training must expand nationwide with specialisations, language standards, and continuous development. Gender and age imbalances require targeted recruitment, mentorship, and diversified roles. Finally, guides must be integrated into the tourism value chain through mandatory verification, accountability measures, and performancelinked feedback.
The Uncomfortable Truth
Can Sri Lanka achieve high-value tourism with a low-quality, largely unlicensed guide workforce? The answer is NO. Unambiguously, definitively, NO. Sri Lanka’s guides shape tourist perceptions, spending, and satisfaction, yet the system treats them as expendable; poorly trained, economically insecure, and largely unregulated. With 57% of tourists relying on unlicensed guides, experience quality becomes unpredictable and revenue leaks into commission-driven channels.
High-yield markets avoid destinations with weak service standards, leaving Sri Lanka stuck in low-value, volume tourism. This is not a training problem but a structural failure requiring regulatory enforcement, viable career pathways, and a complete overhaul of incentives. Without professionalising guides, high-value tourism is unattainable. Fixing the guide crisis is the foundation for genuine sector transformation.
The choice is ours. The workforce is waiting.
This concludes the 04-part series on Sri Lanka’s tourism stagnation. The diagnosis is complete. The question now is whether policymakers have the courage to act.
For any concerns/comments contact the author at saliya.ca@gmail.com
(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe. The views and opinions expressed in this article are personal.)
Features
Recruiting academics to state universities – beset by archaic selection processes?
Time has, by and large, stood still in the business of academic staff recruitment to state universities. Qualifications have proliferated and evolved to be more interdisciplinary, but our selection processes and evaluation criteria are unchanged since at least the late 1990s. But before I delve into the problems, I will describe the existing processes and schemes of recruitment. The discussion is limited to UGC-governed state universities (and does not include recruitment to medical and engineering sectors) though the problems may be relevant to other higher education institutions (HEIs).
How recruitment happens currently in SL state universities
Academic ranks in Sri Lankan state universities can be divided into three tiers (subdivisions are not discussed).
* Lecturer (Probationary)
– recruited with a four-year undergraduate degree. A tiny step higher is the Lecturer (Unconfirmed), recruited with a postgraduate degree but no teaching experience.
* A Senior Lecturer can be recruited with certain postgraduate qualifications and some number of years of teaching and research.
* Above this is the professor (of four types), which can be left out of this discussion since only one of those (Chair Professor) is by application.
State universities cannot hire permanent academic staff as and when they wish. Prior to advertising a vacancy, approval to recruit is obtained through a mind-numbing and time-consuming process (months!) ending at the Department of Management Services. The call for applications must list all ranks up to Senior Lecturer. All eligible candidates for Probationary to Senior Lecturer are interviewed, e.g., if a Department wants someone with a doctoral degree, they must still advertise for and interview candidates for all ranks, not only candidates with a doctoral degree. In the evaluation criteria, the first degree is more important than the doctoral degree (more on this strange phenomenon later). All of this is only possible when universities are not under a ‘hiring freeze’, which governments declare regularly and generally lasts several years.
Problem type 1
– Archaic processes and evaluation criteria
Twenty-five years ago, as a probationary lecturer with a first degree, I was a typical hire. We would be recruited, work some years and obtain postgraduate degrees (ideally using the privilege of paid study leave to attend a reputed university in the first world). State universities are primarily undergraduate teaching spaces, and when doctoral degrees were scarce, hiring probationary lecturers may have been a practical solution. The path to a higher degree was through the academic job. Now, due to availability of candidates with postgraduate qualifications and the problems of retaining academics who find foreign postgraduate opportunities, preference for candidates applying with a postgraduate qualification is growing. The evaluation scheme, however, prioritises the first degree over the candidate’s postgraduate education. Were I to apply to a Faculty of Education, despite a PhD on language teaching and research in education, I may not even be interviewed since my undergraduate degree is not in education. The ‘first degree first’ phenomenon shows that universities essentially ignore the intellectual development of a person beyond their early twenties. It also ignores the breadth of disciplines and their overlap with other fields.
This can be helped (not solved) by a simple fix, which can also reduce brain drain: give precedence to the doctoral degree in the required field, regardless of the candidate’s first degree, effected by a UGC circular. The suggestion is not fool-proof. It is a first step, and offered with the understanding that any selection process, however well the evaluation criteria are articulated, will be beset by multiple issues, including that of bias. Like other Sri Lankan institutions, universities, too, have tribal tendencies, surfacing in the form of a preference for one’s own alumni. Nevertheless, there are other problems that are, arguably, more pressing as I discuss next. In relation to the evaluation criteria, a problem is the narrow interpretation of any regulation, e.g., deciding the degree’s suitability based on the title rather than considering courses in the transcript. Despite rhetoric promoting internationalising and inter-disciplinarity, decision-making administrative and academic bodies have very literal expectations of candidates’ qualifications, e.g., a candidate with knowledge of digital literacy should show this through the title of the degree!
Problem type 2 – The mess of badly regulated higher education
A direct consequence of the contemporary expansion of higher education is a large number of applicants with myriad qualifications. The diversity of degree programmes cited makes the responsibility of selecting a suitable candidate for the job a challenging but very important one. After all, the job is for life – it is very difficult to fire a permanent employer in the state sector.
Widely varying undergraduate degree programmes.
At present, Sri Lankan undergraduates bring qualifications (at times more than one) from multiple types of higher education institutions: a degree from a UGC-affiliated state university, a state university external to the UGC, a state institution that is not a university, a foreign university, or a private HEI aka ‘private university’. It could be a degree received by attending on-site, in Sri Lanka or abroad. It could be from a private HEI’s affiliated foreign university or an external degree from a state university or an online only degree from a private HEI that is ‘UGC-approved’ or ‘Ministry of Education approved’, i.e., never studied in a university setting. Needless to say, the diversity (and their differences in quality) are dizzying. Unfortunately, under the evaluation scheme all degrees ‘recognised’ by the UGC are assigned the same marks. The same goes for the candidates’ merits or distinctions, first classes, etc., regardless of how difficult or easy the degree programme may be and even when capabilities, exposure, input, etc are obviously different.
Similar issues are faced when we consider postgraduate qualifications, though to a lesser degree. In my discipline(s), at least, a postgraduate degree obtained on-site from a first-world university is preferable to one from a local university (which usually have weekend or evening classes similar to part-time study) or online from a foreign university. Elitist this may be, but even the best local postgraduate degrees cannot provide the experience and intellectual growth gained by being in a university that gives you access to six million books and teaching and supervision by internationally-recognised scholars. Unfortunately, in the evaluation schemes for recruitment, the worst postgraduate qualification you know of will receive the same marks as one from NUS, Harvard or Leiden.
The problem is clear but what about a solution?
Recruitment to state universities needs to change to meet contemporary needs. We need evaluation criteria that allows us to get rid of the dross as well as a more sophisticated institutional understanding of using them. Recruitment is key if we want our institutions (and our country) to progress. I reiterate here the recommendations proposed in ‘Considerations for Higher Education Reform’ circulated previously by Kuppi Collective:
* Change bond regulations to be more just, in order to retain better qualified academics.
* Update the schemes of recruitment to reflect present-day realities of inter-disciplinary and multi-disciplinary training in order to recruit suitably qualified candidates.
* Ensure recruitment processes are made transparent by university administrations.
Kaushalya Perera is a senior lecturer at the 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.)
Features
Talento … oozing with talent
This week, too, the spotlight is on an outfit that has gained popularity, mainly through social media.
Last week we had MISTER Band in our scene, and on 10th February, Yellow Beatz – both social media favourites.
Talento is a seven-piece band that plays all types of music, from the ‘60s to the modern tracks of today.
The band has reached many heights, since its inception in 2012, and has gained recognition as a leading wedding and dance band in the scene here.
The members that makeup the outfit have a solid musical background, which comes through years of hard work and dedication
Their portfolio of music contains a mix of both western and eastern songs and are carefully selected, they say, to match the requirements of the intended audience, occasion, or event.
Although the baila is a specialty, which is inherent to this group, that originates from Moratuwa, their repertoire is made up of a vast collection of love, classic, oldies and modern-day hits.
The musicians, who make up Talento, are:
Prabuddha Geetharuchi:
(Vocalist/ Frontman). He is an avid music enthusiast and was mentored by a lot of famous musicians, and trainers, since he was a child. Growing up with them influenced him to take on western songs, as well as other music styles. A Peterite, he is the main man behind the band Talento and is a versatile singer/entertainer who never fails to get the crowd going.
Geilee Fonseka (Vocals):
A dynamic and charismatic vocalist whose vibrant stage presence, and powerful voice, bring a fresh spark to every performance. Young, energetic, and musically refined, she is an artiste who effortlessly blends passion with precision – captivating audiences from the very first note. Blessed with an immense vocal range, Geilee is a truly versatile singer, confidently delivering Western and Eastern music across multiple languages and genres.
Chandana Perera (Drummer):
His expertise and exceptional skills have earned him recognition as one of the finest acoustic drummers in Sri Lanka. With over 40 tours under his belt, Chandana has demonstrated his dedication and passion for music, embodying the essential role of a drummer as the heartbeat of any band.
Harsha Soysa:
(Bassist/Vocalist). He a chorister of the western choir of St. Sebastian’s College, Moratuwa, who began his musical education under famous voice trainers, as well as bass guitar trainers in Sri Lanka. He has also performed at events overseas. He acts as the second singer of the band
Udara Jayakody:
(Keyboardist). He is also a qualified pianist, adding technical flavour to Talento’s music. His singing and harmonising skills are an extra asset to the band. From his childhood he has been a part of a number of orchestras as a pianist. He has also previously performed with several famous western bands.
Aruna Madushanka:
(Saxophonist). His proficiciency in playing various instruments, including the saxophone, soprano saxophone, and western flute, showcases his versatility as a musician, and his musical repertoire is further enhanced by his remarkable singing ability.
Prashan Pramuditha:
(Lead guitar). He has the ability to play different styles, both oriental and western music, and he also creates unique tones and patterns with the guitar..
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