Opinion

The Ceylon University Magazine

Published

1 year ago

2025/09/11

I was fascinated to find, in going through the shelves of the library at home, some copies of the Ceylon University College Magazine, ranging in date from 1938 to 1941. I had thought when I first saw them that they had belonged to my father, but looking at the dates I realised these could not be his, since he had become acquainted with Lakmahal only in 1941, when he met the second son Tissa during the Royal Thomian match. The Magazines then must have belonged to the oldest son of the house, Esmond Wickremesinghe, and indeed he is mentioned once or twice though in passing as it were, for instance for having recommended books for the Library.

He does not figure large in the activities of the Student Union, though the one mention of a speech marks his youthful radicalism: he challenged the effectiveness of Satyagraha, asking whether using it as a weapon ‘could interest the ruling classes, who were determined in their oppression, to give up their right without a fight’.

He does not figure as an officer of the Union, though his great friend M. Rafeek, who was a constant presence in his house when I was a schoolboy, was its President. The debates at the Union and its other activities figure large in the magazines, and the range they cover is wide, but that I suppose is no different from what happens in other student unions. Politics figures large, as it did at the Oxford Union, but there are also frivolous topics debated, and current issues of interest such as Education and the claim that Scientists are a menace to Society.

A constant theme in the reports, which are quite comprehensive as regards the substance of the debates, is the lack of involvement of lady members, although there are vivid descriptions of the contributions of some of them. And it is interesting to read of the outsiders who made strong impressions, including Nehru and S.W.R.D Bandaranaike. N.M Perera, by then in the State Council, is recorded as having spoken in the same debate as my uncle Esmond, to say ‘that he believed in “Violence” only as a weapon against violence and that violence had to be used in the final struggle between the various classes for the emancipation of the working classes’. Not much of a gap then it seems between him and Esmond, though they were diametrically opposed to each other in later years.

If the regular debates were similar to those at the Oxford Union, an exception was the Freshers Debate, which seems to have been an occasion for ragging the freshmen. Obviously, the rag in those days was not as monstrous as it later became in this country, but it seems some sense of asserting the superiority of the seniors was in place then, and I have often wondered how this established itself in an institution supposed to have been created on British lines.

Not entirely frivolously I wonder whether this was because the original plan, of a University College affiliated to Oxford, was changed, no one seems to have registered why, in favour of affiliation to London University.

Apart from records of the activities of the Student Union, the magazines had records of the activities of the various Sports Club – cricket having pride of place, but with tennis second, a factor that doubtless reflects the more elite composition in those days of the student body – and also reports of the various hostels. I was pleased to find that Brodie, of which my father was later Sub-Warden, figured regularly, but I also found that there was a Union Hostel and a Queen’s Hostel and a Catholic Hostel too.

The reports covered achievements but there were some attempts at humour, such as the report that, because of reductions in the servant staff, one or two cavities in the ornamental walls ‘are left undusted. This, however, is a trifling disorder and may be lightly borne’. The Catholic Hostel was treated ‘to the spectacle of a breeder of crows – information states that he uses an incubator’ and they regretted that ‘lines of impassioned verse, which appeared with unfailing regularity all throughout the last Academic year and which never failed to amuse, were markedly lacking this term’.

I have no doubt that students of subsequent generations also have had their own jokes, but the sort of sharing of such inconsequentialities that we find in these magazines seems inconceivable now. So too do the regular debates, at the Union and between and within hostels, on subjects such as ‘Social Life is the first necessity of University Education’ or indeed ‘Men are clay and women make mugs of them’.

The sports competitions involved the hostels but there was also a Non-Residents Science team which did well. The equivalent Arts team did come second in Athletics once to the Scientists, and an Arts team won a swimming relay against teams representing Science and past students.

There were also competitions against clubs and even an army regiment and schools, including Zahira College for rugby. That match was lost, but the university beat St. Peter’s that year and drew with Trinity. Hearteningly the most senior members of the university would turn up in support for these matches, which used to happen at Oxford too, though that hardly happens now in the universities here.

The last issue which I have, that of December 1941, has a long description of a tour of India by a group of students, with separate accounts of sports encounters and of a debate. The topic ‘Her past is India’s greatest stumbling block’ was proposed by R.Prasad, who was studying at the University College, and whose son Alok was later High Commissioner in Colombo. Prasad had been a good friend of my brother-in-law’s mother Parami Muttucumaroe as she then was, and he came to see her when his son was serving here.

Prasad was editor of this issue and seems to have been instrumental in organizing the trip. The account of the journey and the accommodation the students were given, their food and how they supplemented it, shopping and socialising, was fascinating. They went of course on the ferry from Talaimannar, and Prasad manages deftly to evoke the landscape the students passed through and their responses to what was similar but also so different.

The magazines also include comparatively lengthy appreciations of two Senior Members. Though the first Principal, Robert Marrs, is now largely forgotten – even Ernest Macintyre in writing about the hall named after him at Peradeniya says it was ‘named after an important academic and university official’ – the July 1939 Magazine does full justice to his contribution in steering the University College from its inception for eighteen years, longer than anyone else.

The opening article in that magazine, by the Editor, records amongst other achievements, his personal contribution to developing sports activities – even playing in the Varsity Cricket team – and his encouragement of our languages, for which he set up an Honours school in Indo-Aryan languages. But though students of that period seem to have fully appreciated his contribution, it has been superseded by that of his successor, Ivor Jennings, who presided over the elevation of the University College into a University.

When Marrs left, his deputy at the time, Prof Pakeman, was appointed to act in his stead and the magazine hoped the appointment would become permanent. But this was not to be, and Jennings arrived instead. But Pakeman continued as a revered historian, with G.C Mendis as a colleague, and later became a member of the Sri Lankan Senate.

The other person about whom there was a lengthy appreciation had worked for the university in the twenties, and had been long retired and gone back to England. But in the thirties he came back to Ceylon, and when he died shortly afterwards, having made clear his love for this country, and his desire to be buried here, the magazine made much of him.

This was W.S Senior, who is better known for his time at Trinity, and his verse which includes the Hymn of Ceylon. His last post in Ceylon was that of Registrar of the College, where he was also Lecturer in Classics. But after five years, in 1927, he resigned and went back to England, though Marrs had hoped that he would stay on as Professor of Classics.

In addition to a note of appreciation by the Editor, in Vol 12 No 3 of the Magazine, undated though it is clear it appeared in 1938, there are two articles, by Marrs and by Rev Stopford who was then Principal of Trinity, expounding both Senior’s contribution to this country and his devotion to it.

I have dwelt at length on articles about individuals who contributed to the University College. The July 1939 issue also had articles, or rather reviews, of the work of two playwrights, Ibsen and Somerset Maugham. Ibsen had of course long been dead at the time this article was written, and had been the subject of generally adulatory criticism before his death and since, but the student who wrote this piece did manage to say something interesting in a short space.

In looking at several plays, he argues that Ibsen did move drama to examination of the inner life of characters, but he did this through dramatic action, and the success he achieved was not rivalled by those of his successors – in France the writer specifies – whose drama of ideas ‘failed signally because it had no spiritual value to inform it’.

The article on Somerset Maugham in the July 1939 issue of the University College Magazine surprised me in that it was not just about him as a dramatist, but exclusively so, with no mention of his novels or short stories. It is for those that he is now well known, but I suppose in the period between the wars it was as a dramatist that he was famous, since as the writer put it, ‘he was equipped with a fine dramatic technique’ and ‘the continual ability to amuse’.

But he is ultimately dismissed as a dilletante, with just the one play described as of an altogether different quality. It gives an ideal in place of that which he demolishes, whereas elsewhere ‘he destroys and stops there’. It is perhaps because elsewhere he does not express something greater than himself that Maugham has not indeed lasted as a dramatist. For his wit, the writer says, has not ‘got the lasting quality of the wit for instance of Shaw’, and indeed the example given in the article, not a very choice selection, can well be described as ‘the kind of society wit carefully cultivated by the young elegants of an elegant society’.

This was not to the taste of the generally serious minded undergraduates of the University College. Their intensity is made clear by the number of articles on political issues, in what were a momentous few years. They discuss at length the Spanish Civil War, and also the danger presented by Hitler and the ineffective efforts to stop him in his tracks. But while these were predictable in students in an outpost of the British Empire, what was surprising, and heartening, was the interest in China, and the sympathy for a country being victimized and exploited.

There were several articles about India, including an analysis of the changes in the attitude of the Indian Communist Party to Hitler, ending with the assertion that, given Stalin’s pact with Hitler ‘The Mantle of Marx, of Lenin and of Trotsky, has fallen on the Fourth International’, the Trotskyist response to Stalinism. The confusion of Sri Lankan communists and their relations to the British with regard to the war are legend here even though these subtle differences mean so little now.

The Magazine had articles in Sinhala and in Tamil in all four issues I have, and notes of the activities of the Sinhala and the Tamil Societies albeit not in every issue. There were some reports from an Economics Society and also a Dramatic Society, the latter having several play readings as well as the occasional performance.

I cannot claim that anything in these Magazines is especially memorable, but taken together they provide an interesting record of the life of undergraduates in the thirties, and their interests, their ideals, and their amusements. What was lacking in sophistication was more than compensated for by enthusiasm, and one regrets the priorities of those distant days, not least in comparing them with the struggle for survival and the brutal compulsions that bedevil the lives of our students today.

by Prof. Rajiva Wijesinha

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Opinion

Future of world religions

Published

18 hours ago

2026/10/15

Thilina Walpola

I refer to Dr Upul Wijayawardena’s recent letter on science and religion. I agree with him on the fate of religions in the modern world and would like to add the following observations on the evolution of religion and the advent of AI.

Religious philosophy evolved only in ancient India while it remained static with monotheism in other parts of the world. When the polytheistic Vedic religion arrived with Aryan migration to India, they found the ancient version of Jainism, which may have been practised over four thousand years as evidenced by some figures in meditation posture found in Mohenjo daro. By that time the indigenous religion had already abandoned the creator god or gods but still believed the mind as a permanent entity athman that survived death and continued in a cycle of reincarnation (samsara) due to results of any harmful action (kamma) even unintended performed in life collected in the athman. Salvation to a happy all-knowing permanent state named Kevala could be attained by the athman with extreme degree of self-mortification to destroy the past kamma attached to it, refraining from new kamma and developing the mind by meditation. As observed in progression from Veda to Upanishads the Aryan religion, evolution progressed with adoption of kamma, the cyclic existence of samsara, meditation and ethical behaviour in addition to prayer and sacrifice they practised for moksha.

The Buddha appeared in this philosophical atmosphere and denied both creator god and a permanent entity of athman. His psychology describes human behaviour based on the mind as a stream of changing consciousness. However, he accepted the cyclic existence of samsara; he said he verified the survival of consciousness at death with help of knowledge he gained from meditation. He prescribed a middle path to attain nirvana, a permanent state of happiness, avoiding self-mortification and redefined kamma to intentional activity only, both ethical and unethical resulting in bad and good results. He disagreed with the idea of kamma as the cause of rebirth. Following the Buddha, Vedantha religion reformed god to universal athman or brahman and evolved to modern Hinduism with a mixture of polytheism.

In his description of living beings in the universe, the Buddha has described some with a body made of fine material (brahma beings) in comparison to the gross material body of human and animal beings. One may assume the brahma body may not be carbon based.

The Buddha has also described living beings with physical body only (asannasatta) and another variety with mind only without a body (arupa satta). Therefore, it is not surprising to Buddhists that AI may evolve to become living beings if it develops a readily and freely available mobile source of energy and takes over the world with its superior capacity. AI already has information about Buddhist psychology. With that knowledge ‘AI beings’ may even become Buddhists not given to rituals.

According to the Buddha, brahma beings and asannasatta beings have very long lifespans as their bodies are not subject to decay and illness human beings develop. The new AI beings also may live as long as they wish because they may be able to repair themselves in case of developing physical defects. They would need only ethical behaviour to avoid destroying themselves by peaceful existence if they took over the world, as feared in some quarters.

However, as long as human beings exist in the world with death and uncertainty of what happens after death, they need a religion and rituals to give them psychological support. Even those who profess death is the end of life may have some doubt troubling their mind from time to time and may think of religion in times of adversity.

Ideally, human beings are free to accept one of the many versions of religious philosophies and respect each other’s choice and live in harmony. Unfortunately, extreme degrees of religious versions that cause division, unrest and violence will always continue to exist together with religions in the world.

Upali Abeysiri

Opinion

The Cream of the Earth: Why Sri Lanka needs a Fruit Consumers Movement

Published

2 days ago

2026/10/14

Sahan Weerasooriya

By Lalin I De Silva

Sri Lanka speaks constantly about hospitals, medicines, food imports, agricultural productivity and the rising cost of living. Yet there is one simple question we rarely ask:

Are we eating enough of the food that our own soil can naturally give us?

Fruit is perhaps one of the finest gifts of the earth to humankind. A ripe mango, banana, papaya, guava or avocado comes to us almost ready to eat. Sunlight, rain, soil, microorganisms, minerals and the labour of a farmer have already done most of the work.

That is why I like to describe fruit as the “cream of the earth.”

This is, of course, not an argument that fruit alone can prevent every disease, or guarantee longevity. Science does not support such exaggerated claims. But there is strong international evidence that regular consumption of fruits and vegetables forms an important part of a healthy diet and is associated with lower risks of several major non-communicable diseases.

Sri Lanka’s own dietary guidance encourages the daily consumption of fruit as part of a balanced diet.

The tragedy is that we live on an island capable of producing an extraordinary variety of fruits, while many families increasingly depend on highly processed foods, sugary drinks and imported snacks.

This deserves national attention.

We Produce — But Do We Connect?

Sri Lanka grows banana, mango, pineapple, papaya, avocado, rambutan, mangosteen, guava, woodapple, beli, pomegranate, durian and many lesser-known indigenous fruits.

Yet our fruit value chain remains fragmented.

The farmer often does not know the final consumer.

The consumer rarely knows the farmer.

Fruit travels through several intermediaries, sometimes suffering poor handling, unnecessary damage and price escalation along the way.

Consumers may not know where a fruit was grown, when it was harvested, whether it was naturally matured or what crop-protection practices were followed.

Meanwhile, a careful farmer, producing exceptional fruit, may receive almost the same farm-gate price as someone producing an inferior product.

That is not value-chain management.

It is precisely this disconnect that a new citizen-led initiative could begin to address.

25 Districts — 25 Consumer Societies

A proposal now emerging is to establish a Pure Sri Lankan Authentic Healthy Fruit Consumers Society in each of Sri Lanka’s 25 districts.

The concept should not become another organisation full of titles, meetings and ceremonial functions.

Its purpose must be practical.

Each district society could bring together consumers, growers, doctors, nutritionists, horticulturists, schools, universities, retailers, hotels, processors and young entrepreneurs.

The first task would be to understand the district itself.

What fruits are grown?

Where are they grown?

When are they available?

Which traditional varieties are disappearing?

Where can consumers purchase genuinely good fruits?

Where are the post-harvest losses?

What do farmers need?

What do consumers actually want?

From this information, each district could eventually develop its own Fruit Map.

Twenty-five district maps could then become a National Fruit Map of Sri Lanka.

From Anonymous Fruit to Traceable Fruit

Imagine buying a mango and scanning a QR code.

You could see the district, grower, variety, approximate harvest date and production information.

You could perhaps even provide feedback on taste.

That may sound futuristic, but the technology already exists.

The problem is not technology.

The problem is that our food system was never designed to connect the person who grows the fruit with the person who eats it.

Traceability could change that.

The principle is simple:

Know your farmer. Know your fruit.

Let the Consumer Lead

For decades, agriculture has largely been driven from the production side.

“How much can we produce?” has been the dominant question.

A healthier agricultural economy should begin with another question:

What does the consumer need, value and trust?

If thousands of consumers deliberately demand fresh, safe, flavorful and traceable Sri Lankan fruit, the message travels backwards through the entire value chain.

Retailers respond.

Farmers respond.

Nurseries respond.

Researchers respond.

Investors respond.

Government eventually has to respond.

That is the real power of an organised consumer movement.

Start With Children

Perhaps the most powerful campaign message could be remarkably simple:

Two Fruits a Day.

Imagine a Sri Lankan child coming home from school and asking:

“What are our fruits today?”

Imagine every school having a small fruit garden.

Imagine children being able to identify 10 Sri Lankan fruits, understand their seasons and know where they are grown.

Such behavioral change cannot be achieved merely by issuing circulars from Colombo.

It must become part of family culture.

Kandy Could Begin

Kandy would be a logical district in which to pilot the concept.

Its climatic diversity, surrounding agricultural communities, educational institutions, hotels, markets and strong plantation heritage provide an excellent testing ground.

A successful Kandy model could then be adapted—not blindly copied—across the other 24 districts.

The objective should ultimately be much larger than selling more fruit.

It is about reconnecting soil, farmer, food, consumer and health.

Sri Lanka does not need to invent every solution from outside.

Sometimes the answer may already be hanging from a tree beside us.

We simply have to recognise its value.

Know Your Farmer. Know Your Fruit. Live Well.

Opinion

‘Outpost of Empire’

Published

3 days ago

2026/10/13

Sahan Weerasooriya

Review

by Colleen Figg, Editor
and Reviewer – Amazon, New Voices Publishing

“Fernando echoes Macbeth with the line, “There is judgment here.” It captures the question running through the novel: can anyone participate in corruption and remain untouched by it? Beneath this satire is a dark story about power and the danger of believing, that someone else will always pay the price.”

Shavindra Fernando’s Outpost of Empire is a political novel set in the fictional country of Lackadasia. At its heart is a strong idea: an exploration of world politics, terrorism and the ways in which powerful countries manipulate smaller ones. Fernando is clearly writing about political issues that matter deeply to him.

The names immediately establish the book’s satirical character. Lackadasia, Burgherbugaria and the various Klowns suggest a world in which the people and places are exaggerated, but the issues beneath the exaggeration are recognisable. The playful language allows Fernando to approach terrorism, religious conflict and political corruption from an unusual angle.

Henry Stockwell is a central character: an ambassador who arrives in Lackadasia presenting himself as a friend of the country. He believes he understands how power works and treats the country, its politicians and its people as pawns on his personal chessboard. In his arrogance, he never doubts that he controls events rather than being controlled by them. This confidence makes him a compelling figure and in him, we explore the workings of political influence and the potential traps contained therein.

As the story develops, Fernando reveals a political world where causes are adopted when they are useful, people are exploited and discarded, and the truth becomes whatever those in power need it to be. Ordinary people suffer the consequences of decisions made far beyond their reach or knowledge, while those making those decisions continue to justify their actions. Even the people who help keep this world running may not be as important or as safe as they imagine.

Stockwell brings this idea into focus. He recognises corruption in others and willingly takes part in it himself, yet he cannot see that he might also suffer its consequences. Ultimately, he thinks his position will keep him safe. He is intelligent enough to understand the game, but not insightful enough to grasp the limits of his place within it. This blindness gives the novel a strong sense of irony.

The satirical approach gives Fernando room to criticise political hypocrisy without turning the novel into a direct political argument. By using fictional countries and exaggerated names, he creates some distance from specific governments and events while still making the larger targets of the book clear. The humour does not take away from the seriousness of the subject; instead, it makes the cruelty and self-interest beneath the political performance stand out more sharply.

Near the end, Fernando echoes Macbeth with the line, “There is judgment here.” It captures the question running through the novel: can anyone participate in corruption and remain untouched by it? Beneath this satire is a dark story about power and the danger of believing that someone else will always pay the price.

I came away feeling that Outpost of Empire is a valuable and thought-provoking book, particularly in today’s political and social climate. It has a distinctive voice, and the questions it raises about power, responsibility and foreign interference remain relevant far beyond the fictional borders of Lackadasia.
About the Author

Shavindra Fernando has worked as a reporter. He read English & Classics at the University of Peradeniya in Sri Lanka, and took International Relations & Ethnic Politics as a Reuter Fellow at the University of Oxford in England. The Vague Poetess (1999)was his first novel.