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The epidemiology of violence

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2 years ago

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Protesters storming the Presidential Secretariat in 2022

By Prof. Susirith Mendis

(First part of this article appeared in The Island Midweek Review of 05 June 2023)

Is civil disobedience violence or a prelude to violence?

Civil disobedience, by generally accepted definition, entails a deliberate breach of law (usually unjust), that is committed with the intention of communicating to a broad audience, including state authorities and the general public, the need for some legal or political change.

Mohandas Ramchand Gandhi internationalised the concept of non-violent struggle through non-violent civil disobedience (Sathyagraha and Sathyakriya) as an effective mode of modern political protests against the colonial rule of British in India. Gandhi’s Salt March was an act of civil disobedience – the principled refusal to comply with a law, at the risk of imprisonment or other punishment, in order to force a concession. Did the ‘aragalites’ envisage arrest and imprisonment at any time during their protests? Or were they of the firm belief that they are not breaking any law and therefore cannot and will not be arrested? Did they walk a thin red line or did they not?

Civil disobedience is a form of political protest. Martin Luther King exercised it in all his political actions by taking to the streets. But it is often emphasised that there are good pragmatic reasons for civil disobedience campaigns to adhere to non-violence.

It is useful for us to look at a recent example from France. Andreas Marcou describes this in his article titled “Violence, communication, and civil disobedience” in ‘Jurisprudence’ – an International Journal of Legal and Political Thought. He describes the events that took place in November 2018, when hundreds of thousands of French people took to the streets to protest President Emmanuel Macron’s planned tax hike for diesel and gas (déjà vu?). What began as a protest for fuel tax finally spiralled into multiple episodes of spasmodic violence. What commenced as non-violent protest within weeks of the initial protest, news outlets were brimming with pictures of burning cars, police in anti-riot gear clashing with protesters throwing projectiles, the Arc de Triomphe vandalised, and high street shops ransacked. With thousands of protesters and police officers injured, thousands were arrested and convicted, and several dead because of the protests. The current violence in Paris following the killing of a 17-year-old boy by the police is another example of the generally politically volatile French public.

Furthermore, Marcou goes on to describe how the ‘Black Lives Matter’ movement that began largely as non-violent, there have been instances of clashes with police and counter-protesters, as well as looting and other damage to property. He says that the French protest and the resurgent Black Lives Matter movement “have once again brought forward debates about violence and disobedience”. Therefore, it is apparent that non-violent protest can qualify as civil disobedience. Some experts argue that some violent protests could be classified as civil disobedience. But we still need to find the ‘thin red line’ that demarcates civil disobedience from violent protests.

It is often debated that “violent civil disobedience” – though it sounds like an oxymoron – is justified in situations where “fundamentally illegitimate regimes” are violating human rights of citizens. For instance, even the killing of a genocidal dictator (such as Hitler or Pol Pot) when thousands of innocent lives are at stake, is arguably morally defensible. However, in the context of protests against a democratically elected legitimate regime, the use of violence is hardly justifiable. I would argue on the aforesaid basis, that the ‘GotaGoHome’ protests have justification only if they remained non-violent.

Justifiable violence

In self-defence

This is the most controversial and debatable aspect of violence. Often, we find that the perpetrators of violence use ‘justifiable violence’ as the excuse for their actions.

Andrea Borghini in an article in February 2019 titled “Can Violence be Just?” commences thus: “In some, probably most, circumstances it is evident that violence is unjust; but some cases appear more debatable to someone’s eyes: can violence ever be justified?

In its most basic form, violence is justified when it is personal counter-violence. If a person punches you in the face, it may seem justified to try and respond to that with counter physical violence – i.e., a form of self-defence. Borghini further argues that “In a more audacious version of the justification of violence in the name of self-defense, violence of any kind may be justified in reply to the violence of any other kind, provided there is a somewhat fair use of the violence exercised in self-defense.”

Political violence

Usually, political violence is a means to an end where the ‘end justifies the means’. Political violence by definition is said to be considered not as an end in itself. The concept of consequentialism would justify violence if the consequences were sufficiently ‘good’ to justify the harm of violence. Utilitarianism, on the other hand, would allow for the use of violence where utility or usefulness of violence is of benefit to society.

This may be countered by the argument that anarchic violence, though political, is often chaotic and directionless and the outcome or end is unclear.

Argument for the moral grounds of political violence have been enunciated by many philosophers. Political violence is justified in the situation in which the violence is employed as a necessary means to an end, in which all other ‘means’ have been exhausted and where the violence is for the restoration of democracy from authoritarianism or fascism.

Where in the spectrum of justifiable political violence does the ‘aragalaya’ fall into? Or is it justifiable in the context of an economic crisis precipitated by a multiplicity of factors – both external and internal – in a democratic sociopolitical milieu that was not authoritarian nor fascistic? Perhaps answers to these questions may lie in one’s political perspectives.

Revolutionary violence

Where in the spectrum of political violence can we put violence that has occurred during revolutions?

The major successful revolutions have been the Russian, Chinese and Cuban in our modern history. Then we have had the Iranian and Philippine revolutions; the revolutions in Nicaragua and some Latin American countries; and the ‘colour’ revolutions in the former Soviet-East European states. The latter have been qualitatively different from the former where street demonstrations have led to violence and regime change. Where do we put what happened in Iraq, Syria and Libya? In that sense, the ‘aragalaya’ has been the most non-violent with little or no state violence unleashed to save the ruling regime.

I remember reading somewhere, about Dr. Dayan Jayatilleke’s book and its theorisation of Fidel’s ethics of violence where he writes about three key elements – which are the avoidance of (i) targeting non-combatants, (ii) physical torture, and (iii) the execution of captives. This has not been true of all revolutions. The most notable being the execution of Czar Alexander and his family.

Morality and Ethics of violence

This brings us to another concept – the morality and ethics of violence. Since this article is getting longer than I first intended, I shall try to be as brief as possible. David Rapoport states that there are three prominent views on the morality of violence. They are: (1) the pacifist position, which states that violence is always immoral, and should never be used; (2) the utilitarian position – that violence can be used if it achieves a greater “good” for society; (3) a hybrid of these two views which both looks at what good comes from the use of violence, while also examining the types of violence used.

In a provocative thesis – ‘Virtuous Violence’ by Alan Page Fiske, an anthropologist at UCLA, and Tage Rai, a psychologist and post-doctoral scholar at Northwestern University, they conclude that “across cultures and history, there is generally one motive for hurting or killing: people are violent because it feels like the right thing to do. They feel morally obliged to do it.”

Can the perpetrators who attacked and killed 12 people in the Charlie Hebdo offices in Paris on January 7th, 2015, justify themselves on the basis of the above argument? The two brothers who were responsible for the attack and killings later said that they “were defending Prophet Mohommed”.

Can the bombing of Afghanistan by the US Air Force with support from Britain, France, Australia, Canada and Germany, soon after the 9-11 bombing of the twin towers in New York be justified on the same basis?

Can the Russian invasion of Ukraine be justified on the basis of an existential threat to its territory and nationhood from the attempted expansion of NATO?

Can the attack on ‘aragalites’ in front of ‘Temple Trees’ justify the burning and looting of 70-odd houses all over Sri Lanka?

It can be all too easy to brand violence as evil, but increasingly, research is revealing this approach is being too simplistic and offers no effective means of reducing violence. A similar insight is drawn by the Harvard psychologist, Steven Pinker who argues that most perpetrators of violence throughout history are not pathological but motivated to act within their own moral framework.

Now the obvious question comes up. What is this ‘moral framework’? It obviously differs from culture to culture and societal norms of different communities. Is violence justified when defending the unarmed and unempowered? The issue of morality and ethics of violence is not as straightforward as we might wish to think. Each specific situation demands analysis of the morality of violence. We are left with an unanswered moral dilemma. “Is violence always wrong?”

Just War theory

The just war theory (JWT) is a doctrine of military ethics that aims to ensure that a war is morally justifiable through a series of criteria, all of which must be met for a war to be considered just.

It is said that JWT can be traced as far back as to Ancient Egypt. The Chinese justified war only as a last resort and only if declared by the rightful sovereign. But they added the fallacious argument that the success of a military campaign was sufficient proof that the war had been righteous. This is not surprising as we find that this argument seems to be in play in modern times as well. The outcome of World Wars I and II and the Treaty of Versailles and the Nuremburg Trials are classic examples of the persistence of the Chinese argument for a righteous war.

The Mahabharata offers the first written discussions of a “just war” (dharma-yuddha or “righteous war”). In it, one of five ruling brothers (Pandavas) asks if the suffering caused by war can ever be justified. A long discussion then ensues between the siblings, establishing criteria like proportionality (chariots cannot attack cavalry, only other chariots; no attacking people in distress), just means (no poisoned or barbed arrows), just cause (no attacking out of rage), and fair treatment of captives and the wounded.

From the Islamic concept of jihad (Arabic: “striving”), or holy war, comes the concept of Muslim legal theory which is the only type of just war in their ‘rule book’.

Most wars are justified on one or another rationale. Those who go to war always have a justification. The US involvement in the Vietnam war and the current war between Russia and the Ukraine are contrasting cases from the ends of the political spectrum.

In conclusion

I have tried in this short essay to discuss violence as an anthropological entity with a spectrum of opinions and justifications. The debate/discussion will last as long as civilisation lasts. As long as we as humans will have our primaeval, atavistic ‘tribal’ propensities. As long as we are divided by class, caste, religion, race and nationhood.

The ‘aragalaya’ must necessarily fall into some slot in these myriad human propensities for violence and non-violence. As I said at the outset, there are a few unique features in what happened from April to July 2022. It began with a non-violent peaceful right to protest. The candle-lit vigils – mostly of the middle and upper-middle class – that almost immediately changed into a spasm of violence in Mirihana when a bus was torched. In the minds of some of them, their intentions were violent right from the beginning. But for others, it was justified, non-violent protests against a regime that had deteriorated fast into economic chaos leading to civil unrest.

So, to which slot exactly, can we put the ‘aragalaya’ in this ‘epidemiology of violence’? How spontaneous was it? Were there other players in the shadows who played ‘puppets on strings’? Were there external sources who funded the ‘aragalaya’? If so, what were their motivations? Was ‘regime change’ on their agenda? Did the circumstances of those heady events demand a regime change?

Did our predominant culture, the Buddhist ethos prevent serious violence on the part of the ‘aragalites’, and more pertinently on the part of the regime? Why was not a single shot fired into the air, and failing which into the crowd, when the Presidential Residence gates were breached? Why did the President slink away quietly by the back door into political oblivion? Do the current attempts at supressing dissent ‘by legal means’ portend of more violence to come?

We shall have to await a detailed and deep analysis of what happened in those critical months in 2022 in Sri Lanka to make better sense of what really happened a year ago.


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Opinion

Thoughts for Unduvap Poya

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1 day ago

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2025/12/4

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Arrival of Arahant Bhikkuni Sangamitta

Unduvap Poya, which falls today, has great historical significance for Sri Lanka, as several important events occurred on that day but before looking into these, as the occasion demands, our first thought should be about impermanence. One of the cornerstones of Buddha’s teachings is impermanence and there is no better time to ponder over it than now, as the unfolding events of the unprecedented natural disaster exemplify it. Who would have imagined, even a few days ago, the scenes of total devastation we are witnessing now; vast swathes of the country under floodwaters due to torrential rain, multitudes of earth slips burying alive entire families with their hard-built properties and closing multiple trunk roads bringing the country to a virtual standstill. The best of human kindness is also amply demonstrated as many risk their own lives to help those in distress.

In the struggle of life, we are attached and accumulate many things, wanted and unwanted, including wealth overlooking the fact that all this could disappear in a flash, as happened to an unfortunate few during this calamitous time. Even the survivors, though they are happy that they survived, are left with anxiety, apprehension, and sorrow, all of which is due to attachment. We are attached to things because we fail to realise the importance of impermanence. If we do, we would be less attached and less affected. Realisation of the impermanent nature of everything is the first step towards ultimate detachment.

It was on a day like this that Arahant Bhikkhuni Sanghamitta arrived in Lanka Deepa bringing with her a sapling of the Sri Maha Bodhi tree under which Prince Siddhartha attained Enlightenment. She was sent by her father Emperor Ashoka, at the request of Arahant Mahinda who had arrived earlier and established Buddhism formally under the royal patronage of King Devanampiyatissa. With the very successful establishment of Bhikkhu Sasana, as there was a strong clamour for the establishment of Bhikkhuni Sasana as well, Arahant Mahinda requested his father to send his sister which was agreed to by Emperor Ashoka, though reluctantly as he would be losing two of his children. In fact, both served Lanka Deepa till their death, never returning to the country of their birth. Though Arahant Sanghamitta’s main mission was otherwise, her bringing a sapling of the Bo tree has left an indelible imprint in the annals of our history.

According to chronicles, King Devanampiyatissa planted the Bo sapling in Mahamevnawa Park in Anuradhapura in 288 BCE, which continues to thrive, making it the oldest living human planted tree in the world with a known planting date. It is a treasure that needs to be respected and protected at all costs. However, not so long ago it was nearly destroyed by the idiocy of worshippers who poured milk on the roots. Devotion clouding reality, they overlooked the fact that a tree needs water, not milk!

A monk developed a new practice of Bodhi Puja, which even today attracts droves of devotees and has become a ritual. This would have been the last thing the Buddha wanted! He expressed gratitude by gazing at the tree, which gave him shelter during the most crucial of times, for a week but did not want his followers to go around worshipping similar trees growing all over. Instead of following the path the Buddha laid for us, we seem keen on inventing new rituals to indulge in!

Arahant Sanghamitta achieved her prime objective by establishing the Bhikkhuni Sasana which thrived for nearly 1200 years till it fell into decline with the fall of the Anuradhapura kingdom. Unfortunately, during the Polonnaruwa period that followed the influence of Hinduism over Buddhism increased and some of the Buddhist values like equality of sexes and anti-casteism were lost. Subsequently, even the Bhikkhu Sasana went into decline. Higher ordination for Bhikkhus was re-established in 1753 CE with the visit of Upali Maha Thera from Siam which formed the basis of Siam Maha Nikaya. Upali Maha Thero is also credited with reorganising Kandy Esala Perahera to be the annual Procession of the Temple of Tooth, which was previously centred around the worship of deities, by getting a royal decree: “Henceforth Gods and men are to follow the Buddha”

In 1764 CE, Siyam Nikaya imposed a ‘Govigama and Radala’ exclusivity, disregarding a fundamental tenet of the Buddha, apparently in response to an order from the King! Fortunately, Buddhism was saved from the idiocy of Siyam Nikaya by the formation of Amarapura Nikaya in 1800 CE and Ramanna Nikaya in 1864 CE, higher ordination for both obtained from Burma. None of these Niakya’s showed any interest in the re-establishment of Bhikkhuni Sasana which was left to a band of interested and determined ladies.

My thoughts and admiration, on the day Bhikkhuni Sasana was originally established, go to these pioneers whose determination knew no bounds. They overcame enormous difficulties and obtained higher ordination from South Korea initially. Fortunately, Ven. Inamaluwe Sri Sumangala Thero, Maha Nayaka of Rangiri Dambulla Chapter of Siyam Maha Nikaya started offering higher ordination to Bhikkhunis in 1998 but state recognition became a sore point. When Venerable Welimada Dhammadinna Bhikkhuni was denied official recognition as a Bhikkhuni on her national identity card she filed action, with the support of Ven. Inamaluwe Sri Sumangala Thero. In a landmark majority judgement delivered on 16 June, the Supreme Court ruled that the fundamental rights of Ven. Dhammadinna were breached and also Bhikkhuni Sasana was re-established in Sri Lanka. As this judgement did not receive wide publicity, I wrote a piece titled “Buddhism, Bhikkhus and Bhikkhunis” (The Island, 10 July 2025) and my wish for this Unduvap Poya is what I stated therein:

“The landmark legal battle won by Bhikkhunis is a victory for common sense more than anything else. I hope it will help Bhikkhuni Sasana flourish in Sri Lanka. The number of devotees inviting Bhikkhunis to religious functions is increasing. May Bhikkhunis receive the recognition they richly deserve.” May there be a rapid return to normalcy from the current tragic situation.”

by Dr Upul Wijayawardhana

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Opinion

Royal Over Eighties

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2 days ago

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2025/12/3

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Royal College

The gathering was actually of ‘Over Seventies’ but those of my generation present were mostly of the late eighties.

Even of them I shall mention only those whom I know at least by name. But, first, to those few of my years and older with whom speech was possible.

First among them, in more sense than one, was Nihal Seneviratne, at ninety-one probably the oldest present. There is no truth to the story that his state of crisp well-being is attributable to the consumption of gul-bunis in his school days. It is traceable rather to a life well lived. His practice of regular walks around the house and along the lane on which he lives may have contributed to his erect posture. As also to the total absence of a walking stick, a helper, or any other form of assistance as he walked into the Janaki hotel where this gathering took place.

Referencing the published accounts of his several decades-long service in Parliament as head of its administration, it would be moot to recall that his close friend and fellow lawyer, J E D Gooneratne, teased him in the following terms: “You will be a bloody clerk all your life”. He did join service as Second Assistant to the Clerk to the House and moved up, but the Clerk became the Secretary General. Regardless of such matters of nomenclature, it could be said that Nihal Seneviratne ran the show.

Others present included Dr. Ranjith de Silva, Surgeon, who was our cricket Captain and, to the best of my knowledge, has the distinction of never engaging in private practice.

The range of Dr. K L (Lochana) Gunaratne’s interests and his accomplishments within each are indeed remarkable. I would think that somebody who’d received his initial training at the AA School of Architecture in London would continue to have architecture as the foundation of his likes /dislikes. Such would also provide a road map to other pursuits whether immediately related to that field or not. That is evident in the leadership roles he has played in the National Academy of Sciences and the Institute of Town Planners among others. As I recall he has also addressed issues related to the Panadura Vadaya.

My memories of D L Seneviratne at school were associated with tennis. As happens, D L had launched his gift for writing over three decades ago with a history of tennis in Sri Lanka (1991). That is a game with which my acquaintance is limited to sending a couple of serves past his ear (not ‘tossing the ball across’ as he asked me to) while Jothilingam, long much missed, waited for his team mates to come for practices. It is a game at which my father spent much time both at the Railway sports club and at our home-town club. (By some kind of chance, I recovered just a week ago the ‘Fred de Saram Challenge Cup’ which, on his winning the Singles for the third time, Koo de Saram came over to the Kandana Club to hand over to him for keeps. They played an exhibition match which father won). D L would know whether or not, as I have heard, in an exhibition match in Colombo, Koo defeated Frank Sedgman, who was on his triumphant return home to Oz after he had won the Wimbledon tournament in London.

I had no idea that D L has written any books till my son brought home the one on the early history of Royal under Marsh and Boake, (both long-bearded young men in their twenties).

It includes a rich assortment of photographs of great value to those who are interested in the history of the Anglican segment of Christian missionary activity here in the context of its contribution to secondary school education. Among them is one of the school as it appeared on moving to Thurstan road from Mutwal. It has been extracted from the History of Royal, 1931,  done by students (among whom a relative, Palitha Weeraman, had played a significant role).

As D L shows, (in contra-distinction to the Catholic schools) the CMS had engaged in a largely secular practice. Royal remained so through our time – when one could walk into the examination room and answer questions framed to test one’s knowledge of Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism and Islam; a knowledge derived mostly from the lectures delivered by an Old Boy at general assembly on Friday plus readings from the Dhammapada, the Bhagavad Gita, the St. John’s version of the Bible or the Koran recited by a student at senior assembly on Tuesday / Thursday.

 D L’s history of Royal College had followed in 2006.

His writing is so rich in detail, so precise in formulation, that I would consider this brief note a simple prompt towards a publisher bringing out new editions at different levels of cost.

It was also a pleasure to meet Senaka Amarasinghe, as yet flaunting his Emperor profile, and among the principal organisers of this event.

The encounter with I S de Silva, distinguished attorney, who was on Galle road close to Janaki lane, where I lived then was indeed welcome. As was that with Upali Mendis, who carried out cataract surgery on my mother oh so long ago when he was head of the Eye Hospital. His older brother, L P, was probably the most gifted student in chemistry in our time.

Most serendipitous perhaps was meeting a son of one of our most popular teachers from the 1950s, – Connor Rajaratnam. His cons were a caution.

by Gamini Seneviratne

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Opinion

“Regulatory Impact Assessment – Not a bureaucratic formality but essentially an advocacy tool for smarter governance”: A response

Published

3 days ago

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2025/12/2

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Having meticulously read and re-read the above article published in the opinion page of The Island on the 27 Nov, I hasten to make a critical review on the far-reaching proposal made by the co-authors, namely Professor Theekshana Suraweera, Chairman of the Sri Lanka Standards Institution and Dr. Prabath.C.Abeysiriwardana, Director of Ministry of Science and Technology

The aforesaid article provides a timely and compelling critique of Sri Lanka’s long-standing gaps in evidence-based policymaking and argues persuasively for the institutional adoption of Regulatory Impact Assessment (RIA). In a context where policy missteps have led to severe economic and social consequences, the article functions as an essential wake-up call—highlighting RIA not as a bureaucratic formality but as a foundational tool for smarter governance.

One of the article’s strongest contributions is its clear explanation of how regulatory processes currently function in Sri Lanka: legislation is drafted with narrow legal scrutiny focused mainly on constitutional compliance, with little or no structured assessment of economic, social, cultural, or environmental impacts. The author strengthens this argument with well-chosen examples—the sudden ban on chemical fertilizer imports and the consequences of the 1956 Official Language Act—demonstrating how untested regulation can have far-reaching negative outcomes. These cases effectively illustrate the dangers of ad hoc policymaking and underscore the need for a formal review mechanism.

The article also succeeds in demystifying RIA by outlining its core steps—problem definition, option analysis, impact assessment, stakeholder consultation, and post-implementation review. This breakdown makes it clear that RIA is not merely a Western ideal but a practical, structured, and replicable process that could greatly improve policymaking in Sri Lanka. The references to international best practices (such as the role of OIRA in the United States) lend credibility and global context, showing that RIA is not experimental but an established standard in advanced governance systems.

However, the article could have further strengthened its critique by addressing the political economy of reform: the structural incentives, institutional resistance, and political culture that have historically obstructed such tools in Sri Lanka. While the challenges of data availability, quantification, and political pressure are briefly mentioned, a deeper analysis of why evidence-based policymaking has not taken root—and how to overcome these systemic barriers—would have offered greater practical value.

Another potential enhancement would be the inclusion of local micro-level examples where smaller-scale regulations backfired due to insufficient appraisal. This would help illustrate that the problem is not limited to headline-making policy failures but affects governance at every level.

Despite these minor limitations, the article is highly effective as an advocacy piece. It makes a strong case that RIA could transform Sri Lanka’s regulatory landscape by institutionalizing foresight, transparency, and accountability. Its emphasis on aligning RIA with ongoing national initiatives—particularly the strengthening of the National Quality Infrastructure—demonstrates both pragmatism and strategic vision.

At a time, when Chairmen of statutory bodies appointed by the NPP government play a passive voice, the candid opinion expressed by the CEO of SLSI on the necessity of a Regulatory Impact Assessment is an important and insightful contribution. It highlights a critical missing link in Sri Lanka’s policy environment and provides a clear call to action. If widely circulated and taken seriously by policymakers, academics, and civil society, it could indeed become the eye-opener needed to push Sri Lanka toward more rational, responsible, and future-ready governance.

J. A. A. S. Ranasinghe,
Productivity Specialty and Management Consultant
(rathula49@gmail.com)

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