Midweek Review

The Gift of Music: Sons and Fathers a film by Sumathy

Published

3 years ago

2023/05/3

“Ecstasy and hypnosis. Colours do not move a people. Flags can do nothing without trumpets… The potential fascism of music” Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari (A Thousand Plateaux)

“Schuman’s theatre [Bread & Puppet] bypasses individual characterization & motivation. This might be a way for theatre to retrieve its liberty of fabulation, freeing story from the restrictions of plot constructions (as ridiculous nowadays as wilful rhyme).”

Stefan Brecht (son of Weigel and Bertolt)

by Laleen Jayamanne

Sumathy Sivamohan in her three feature films (Ingirunthu, 2013, Sons and Fathers, 2017 and A Single Tumbler, 2021), seeks freedom to tell stories (several in the one film), without tightly plotting a sequence of actions. She appears to have a cinematic project to explore the hidden aspects of Lankan history from the perspectives of its minority communities. But she is indifferent to ‘the arch of a three-act structure’ mandated by script writing manuals, a commonplace now. Not only are her films structured in a manner unusual for Lankan cinema, the stories themselves are as unusual in that they focus on inter-ethnic relationships among Lankans in very specific social environments, marked by the history of racialised violence. In Sons and Fathers, she creates a flexible loose narrative structure, drawing on a hybrid historical ‘archive,’ as well as living memory gathered from oral histories by interviewing relatives of musicians still alive who remember those early days of the film industry, and also from the next generation of musicians, their sons. She is interested in intergenerational transmission of musical skills, traditions and values as much as in the emergence of something new, even unforeseen. Sumathy’s 2021 documentary Amid the Villus; Palaikuli deals with the repatriation of the Muslim population to their homelands in Puttalam and the consequent difficulties, after their near overnight mass expulsion, in 1990, by the LTTE seeking a pure Tamil homeland. Just as the traumatic partition of Bengal at Indian independence became the burning heart of Ritwik Ghatak’s cinema, an exploration of interethnic relations and the violence of Sinhala and Tamil nationalisms, from the point of view of the ethnic minorities and the dispossessed, are part of what drives Sumathy’s film praxis. I use the old-fashioned Marxist term ‘praxis’ to signal the self-reflexive aspect of her political understanding of film history and film theory, especially within India, and this aspect rather unusually combines with a wild (uncensored) imagination. These are some of the reasons why I think of her work as belonging to a tradition of ‘experimental cinema,’ known for its fearless exploration of new ideas and techniques.

Here I wish to explore Sons and Fathers (Puththu saha Piyavaru), which is perhaps the only Lankan film to base itself within a certain ethos of the Sinhala film industry itself in its production of music by a multi-ethnic group of musicians. While from its very inception in 1947, many highly popular Sinhala genre films were produced and directed by Tamils, Sumathy is the first Tamil female director to do so. But her films are not generic, nor are they ‘Art-House films.’ They have modest budgets with access to independent distribution in alternative international circuits, but drawing on a team of professional technicians who work for her at reduced pay and, often, non-actors.

Sons and Fathers

is the story of an ethnically mixed family (consisting of Rex Periyasami, his Sinhala wife Kanthilatha, step-son Luckshman and their biological daughter, Mala) and their relationship to music production in the film industry and elsewhere. It is set within the central events of the July ’83 race riots, both the lead up to it and also its aftermath. We also see how this lower-middle-class family becomes comfortably middle class in the ’70s, through Rex’s talent as a successful music director for profitable films, while the children were still young. He is loosely based on the very highly regarded composer Rocksamy who suffered grave property loss in repeated race riots, including the one in July ‘83. Rocksamy’s real wife, Indrani, is seen reminiscing about her husband with Sivamohan, at the very end of the film, seated below a large framed photograph of the garlanded, bespectacled musician. Rex’s wife Kanthi is a Sinhala widow with a young son (Lucky), from a previous marriage to a Sinhala man and has a natural talent for singing. This love story (within one of the most tender marriages I have seen in the Sinhala cinema), spans the ’70s and the’80s, capturing the direct, devastating impact of the race riots of 1983 on the film industry and ends in the period of the JVP and State terror of the late ’80s. The latter is casually indicated in passing, when we overhear in an eatery that K. Gunaratnam, the owner of Vijay Studio, had just been shot dead by a gunman. His name reverberates to those who know Lankan film history, which I researched for my doctorate. Certainly, the man serving at the eatery and his female customer knew who he was. Lucky, who is also having breakfast there, overhears this exchange. Gunaratnam was a pioneer film producer, (astutely making Lester James Peries’s popular film Sandeshaya, after Gamperaliya flopped at the box office), and the nearest we had to a movie mogul (along with Sir Chittampalam Gardiner of Ceylon Theatres Ltd and Jabir Cader), owning the exhibition circuit Cinemas Ltd and Vijaya Studio which we saw being burned down in the July ’83 riots, shown at the beginning of the film and also repeated later. He controlled all three tiers of the film industry and was also an industrialist who astutely diversified his assets into tourism and plastics (employing hundreds of people), and had escaped the anti-Tamil mobs who hounded him in the July ’83 riots, but was gunned down by Sinhala nationalist JVP terrorists in 1989.

Songs and Sinhala film fans

Sumathy

Songs are central to Sons and Fathers, just as they were to the South Indian-derived Sinhala genre films’ appeal, where 10 songs were not uncommon. The difference here is that just four songs, (two written by Sivamohan herself and one written and sung by the director of music, Anthony Surendra, and one popular Sinhala song, ‘Pita Deepa Desa’ from the 40s), are repeated as leitmotifs. This principle of orchestrated repetition of the few songs, in counterpoint to films mounting political violence, deepens their expressive powers. Though simple and lyrical in melody, one in particular (sung by Kanthi, referred to by Lucky as his ’mother’s song’), through its complex repetition by different voices, feels like Indian ragas created for particular moods, sensitive to time of day and the seasons and the exact present moment. All the songs carry a historical memory of Sinhala cinema’s link to Indian cinema and the contributions of Muslim, Malay and Tamil musicians and singers to the success and immense popularity of Sinhala genre cinema in the first two or three decades of the industry. Also, the popular songs became ways of expressing feelings, pathos, which are not easy to express more directly through plotted, enacted narrative scenes of the melodramatic genre films, without often falling into bathos (trivial, ridiculous). However sentimental or simple, the genre cinema’s popular movie music had the power to engage audiences and became very popular in those early days through Radio Ceylon broadcasts across the island, availability on gramophone records and the attractively produced song sheets, with images, sometimes in colour, sold cheaply at the cinemas. This large fan base sustained a film industry in the first two or three decades of Sinhala cinema (no mean feat), in a country where Indian films and Hollywood had controlling interests in distribution and exhibition.

It’s this period of the popular cinema, with its connections to South Indian films, which is the musical milieu of Sons and Fathers, where Rex Periyasami is a successful composer, addressed as Master. At the same time, the film presents a not entirely smooth intergenerational transmission of musical knowledge from a Tamil stepfather to Lucky his talented Sinhala stepson who at first resists it, refusing to practice the keyboard saying, ‘why should I learn music, you are not my father!’ His unexpected, quietly delivered, measured response is exemplary of this musician; ‘Whatever you think, you have to live with us son. Life is a beautiful song, but there will be discords, too.’ The second part of the film is more focused on the direct effects of the ’83 anti-Tamil pogrom on the family and on both Rex and Lucky in relation to their music itself. Kanthi, who sings Rex’s love song (Tharuka Hanga), tries to mediate and calm them while Mala is mostly folded into a book, perhaps in defence, as Rex’s employment is threatened and he says the music has dried up in his soul, directly changing his personality, becoming more inward and brooding. When Mala comes over to show him that she can now play a chord on his guitar, he snatches the instrument and yells at her never to play it, violently pushing aside Kanthi who tries to intervene. Lucky has become a musician playing the guitar and singing in a band in both English and Sinhala but is repeatedly taunted as a ‘Tiger cub,’ excluded from it by his musical friends, despite his protestations; ‘I am not Tamil, I am Sinhala, my father has a coconut estate.’ ‘Then why do you play that guitar!’ is his friend’s retort. Though Sinhala, at home both he and his mother do speak Tamil with Rex at tense moments and we learn that Lucky has a Malay and a Burgher friend, both living in their rather seedy lower-middle-class, multi-ethnic neighbourhood.

Experiments in story-telling

The song, in the dance sequence which opens Sons and Fathers, is a pastiche of a song from the hugely popular Indian Tamil film, Chinthamani (but with original satirical lyrics in Sinhala on the national addiction to all things foreign). A short clip from the original film is shown sung in a classical style, with a very chastely dressed star walking through landscapes. The Sinhala version was a hit song sung by Laskshmi Bai (of Malay ethnicity), at the Tower Hall Theatre of the’40s, with a large fan base. It was also popular on radio and is still heard, I gather. Not being the usual love song, it sets an unusual tone to the opening dance sequence of Sons and Fathers, modelled on routines familiar from the ’50s and ’60s Tamil cinema which the Sinhala films copied. The dance by Sumathy’s niece Maitreyei (a trained dancer from Britain) takes the cue from the satirical lyrics and adds a parodic edge to its seductive gestures when she smoothly adds an original clawed ‘lion mudra’ (with a mischievous smile) at the mention of the ‘Sinhala people.’ This song and dance sequence, chiding Sinhala folk for their lack of jathi ale (love of race), is repeated at the very end of the film in a most startling and baffling sequence, to which I will return later.

Filmic overture

Rex, Lucky, Kanthi

The opening 10 or so minutes of the film works really as an overture (realised only on a second viewing), introducing fragments of scenes as motifs, which are later elaborated on in the body of the film. It is thereby creating a remembrance of things past. I list the segments to clearly understand how Sivamohan structures her several stories focusing on the racism and violence of July ’83, through Rex’s family. Rex and Kanthi’s family story connected to the film industry can’t be told without the intersecting history of political violence based on ethnicity bleeding into each other.

1. The opening song and dance sequence (in b and w), discussed above.

2. A recording studio (in b and w). A singer (in a sari with her head covered like Lakshmi Bai), sings, in accented Sinhala, the opening song, Pita Deepa Desa with an orchestra, establishing an audio-visual montage between the dubbed song and the dance.

3. A mob of men in sarongs, carrying fire torches, run around shouting.

4. Rex Periyasami and family (who we have not yet been introduced to), are hiding submerged in water, in a lake, in the dark, while shouting anti-Tamil mobs run wild.

5. Repeat of opening song and dance sequence.

6.Vijaya film studio sign and building are set on fire by a Sinhala mob.

7. K.Venkat, a Tamil film director of genre films (including a film about the Buddha’s Sacred Footprint called Sri Pathula), is dragged out of a building by a mob.

8. A white car is set on fire

9. Repetition of the mob with firebrands.

10. Repetition of Rex and family submerged in water, hiding from the mob.

11. Repetition of burning car, with someone inside it screaming, who is later identified as Venkat.

12. A room seen through a broken glass pane, darkly, as Rex and family return to their trashed home.

13. Inside the room the four family members stand around traumatised by the violence, but find strength to speak. The following exchange marks the end of the overture and the beginning of the main story Rex was determined to tell, which desire sivamohan actualises in her film, Sons and Fathers.

Kanthi (wife/mother): We must begin again (amidst the debris of their possessions).

Rex (husband/father/step-father): Are we not human? Are we refugees?

There is no more music, it’s all a dirge. Yes, I must tell my story to the world.

(The stepson Lucky then speaks to his stepfather in Tamil).

Lucky: Appa, what will you say? To whom? In what language?

Where is your music now? Did it save you? Or did it save us?

Kanthi: No, the music saved us!

‘Appa … in what language?’

Sivamohan takes up the challenge of Lucky’s anguished question, spoken softly but felt like a wounding rebuke to his Tamil stepfather, because the only language he knows is the now proscribed music. Focusing on an ethnically mixed family, Sivamohan creates her own language, a cinematic language replete with songs, honouring the memory of our much-maligned popular cinema, woefully derivative though it was of Indian genres, but what the people did embrace as our own. In attempting to do this, the film opens up our ethnically polarised minds to new possibilities through the power of music and song, integral to the popular Lankan cinema and the livelihood of its multi-ethnic technicians, entrepreneurs, actors and musicians and the lowly working-class men who ran and cleaned the cinemas. This is a very ambitious film in that Sivmohan has dared to go out of her linguistic comfort zone (she says her mother tongues are Tamil and English between which she translates), and worked with a multi-ethnic cast and crew to create a film in Sinhala (encoding a historical memory), about the virtual potential for a rich multi-ethnic hybridised Lankan culture (‘Thuppahi’ Baila like Bombay meri hai also included). The multi-sensory powers of film ‘language’ (freed from constraints of plot) is Sivamohan’s answer to Lucky’s question, ‘Appa, in what language?’

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Midweek Review

22A: Developing constitutional quagmire

Published

5 days ago

2026/08/26

Sahan Weerasooriya

The government’s high profile project to enact the 22nd Amendment failed to secure any tangible support from anyone outside the NPP, in Parliament or outside. In a statement, the Illankai Thamil Arasu Kadchi (ITAK) noted that the proposed amendment concerned the sovereignty of the people and, therefore, required approval through a referendum. The ITAK, a key member of the six-party Political Council of Tamil-Speaking people (PCTSP) and the second largest party in the Northern and Eastern Provinces, other than the NPP, is opposed to President Dissanayake’s move. Tamil Progressive Party (TPA) leader and former Minister Mano Ganeshan, also of the PCTSP, has rejected the 22nd Amendment. The Island learns that all political parties, represented in the PCTSP, are opposed to the proposed Amendment.

The NPP obtained the most seats at the Parliamentary General Election 2024. Other parties that managed to gain seats in Parliament are the Samagi Jana Balawegaya (SJB/40 seats), Ilankai Tamil Arasu Kadchi (ITAK/8 seats), New Democratic Front (NDF/5 seats), Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna (SLPP/3 seats), Sri Lanka Muslim Congress (SLMC/1), Sarvajana Balaya (SB/1), United National Party (UNP/1), Democratic Tamil National Alliance (DTNA/1), All Ceylon Tamil Congress (ACTC/1), All Ceylon Makkal Congress (ACMC/1), Jaffna – Independent Group 17 (IND17-1) and the Sri Lanka Labour Party (SLLP/1).

Timeline

* March 30, 2026, BASL wrote to Justice and National Integration Minister Harshana Nanayakkara seeking a meeting to discuss 22A

* May 25, 2026, BASL wrote to President Dissanayake seeking a meeting to discuss the same

* July 16, 2026, BASL wrote again to the Justice Minister underscoring the failure on his part and the President to respond to previous letters

* July 27, 2026, NPP executive committee member advocate Lal Wijenayake declared opposition to the government move

* July 29, 2026, BASL met the Justice Minister, sought a meeting with President Dissanayake

* July 31, 2026, Mahanayakes of four Chapters (Nikayas) wrote a joint letter to President Dissanayake urging him not to go ahead with the 22nd Amendment. But, the Mahanayakes refrained from releasing the letter to the media

* August 3, 2026, BASL disclosed the Mahanayakes’ letter to the President. Justice Minister Nanayakkara, accompanied by Health and Media Minister Dr. Nalinda Jayathissa, visited the Mahanayakes to explain the government stand. But, they denied receiving the crucial letter

* August 7, 2026, UN requested President Dissanayake, in no uncertain terms, to abandon the move.

* August 11, 2026, Government admitted receiving the Mahanayakes letter

* August 18, 2026, 22nd Amendment Bill presented in Parliament. Those opposed to the constitutional amendment began filing petitions. The BASL led the way. By 24 August, 21 petitions were filed.

* August 20, 2026, Catholic Bishops’ Conference urged the government not to proceed without adequate consultations.

* August 24, 2026, BASL, in a motion filed in the Supreme Court, suggested that Chief Justice Preethi Padman Surasena recuse from hearing the petitions

By Shamindra Ferdinando

In support of the ruling National People’s Power (NPP) government’s highly contentious move to enact the 22nd Amendment to the Constitution despite worldwide condemnation by eminent jurists, meant to extend the retirement ages of superior court judges, NPP leader and President Anura Kumara Dissanayake will address a series of countrywide meetings.

Dissanayake is also the leader of the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP), the main constituent of the governing party.

Justice and National Integration Minister and Attorney-at-Law Harshana Nanayakkara, on 18 August, 2026, tabled the controversial 22nd Amendment Bill in Parliament. Nanayakkara also tabled the Judicature (Amendment) Bill on the same day. That will pave the way for the increase of the retirement ages of High Court judges to 63 years, and District Court and Magistrate Court judges to 62 years. The government wants to increase the retirement ages of Supreme Court and Court of Appeal judges to 67 and 65, respectively.

However, the government has proposed a six-year term for the Chief Justice but he/she will have to retire at the new mandatory retirement age of 67.

Health and Media Minister, as well as Cabinet spokesman Dr. Nalinda Jayathissa, recently announced the decision to launch the high profile propaganda campaign on 5 September. The NPP and JVP leader has vowed to enact the 22nd Amendment, come what may.

Dissanayake, who took over the party leadership on 2 February, 2014, at the 17th convention of the JVP, and formed the NPP in 2019, has indicated that he wouldn’t, under any circumstances, give up the 22nd Amendment. Dissanayake didn’t mince his words when he received a top level delegation of the Bar Association of Sri Lanka (BASL) at the Presidential Secretariat, on 12 August, to discuss the burning issue wracking the country. It would be pertinent to mention that the BASL raised the issue with Dissanayake, on 25 May, after Nanayakkara ignored their first request, made on 31 March.

The Supreme Court will hear over 20 petitions challenging the constitutionality of the 22nd Amendment Bill. Now that the matter is before the Supreme Court, the main opposition Samagi Jana Balawegaya (SJB) shouldn’t have sought to involve the BASL in a futile attempt to educate the NPP parliamentary group. The BASL, too, should know better. The BASL and SJB are among those who moved the Supreme Court. Against that background it would be unthinkable that the NPP parliamentary group wants to listen to BASL. Government activists, on Monday (24), organised a protest outside BASL Secretariat, NO. 153, Mihindu Mawatha, Colombo 12 demanding the resignation of BASL President Rajeev Amarasuriya.

SJB and Opposition Leader Sajith Premadasa clashed in Parliament with the leader of the House Bimal Rathnayake over his bid to bring in the BASL team to address the whole Parliament. NPP National List lawmaker Najith Indika declared on X that “the Opposition Leader couldn’t call all MPs for meetings. BASL either does not follow parliamentary procedure or knows how to manipulate public perception.”

The Supreme Court will receive petitions during two weeks, after the tabling of the Amendment. The Court should inform the Speaker of its determination within three weeks. Parliament will receive that determination ahead of President Dissanayake completing his second year in Office. The last presidential election was held on 21 September 2024.

Dissanayake won a five-year term and in November, the same year, led the party to a resounding victory at the parliamentary poll. The NPP/JVP position is that both Bills can be enacted with a 2/3 majority. With a mammoth 159 seats in Parliament, the government is confident that its political project can be easily achieved. But, the NPP operation has run into significant opposition with the United Nations, throwing its weight behind the BASL-led campaign.

Tabling of the two Bills on 18 August coincided with the 39th anniversary of the JVP grenade attack on the UNP parliamentary group, in the wake of the signing of the Indo-Lanka peace accord in 1987. Ajith Kumara, at that time a minor parliamentary employee, lobbed a hand grenade at the UNP group meeting, chaired by President J.R. Jayewardena. Prime Minister Ranasinghe Premadasa, too, was present. The then National Security Minister Lalith Athulathmudali narrowly escaped death in the attack that took place in the Committee Room 1 of Parliament. Deniyaya MP and Matara District Minister Keerthi Abeywickrema was killed. The writer covered the funeral, held on 22 August, 1987, at the playground of the Morawaka Maha Vidyalaya. Then the young Minister in charge of Youth Affairs and Employment, Ranil Wickremesinghe, was among those who represented the government at the funeral.

Kumara had been recruited as a sweeper by no less a person than the then Secretary General of Parliament, Nihal Seneviratne. Had Kumara been a member of the proscribed JVP at the time he joined the parliamentary staff or did the JVP approach him later?

The Colombo High Court acquitted Ajith Kumara on 12 October, 1990, and released him from custody on 6 August, 1993. Subsequently, the JVP accommodated Ajith Kumara on the party’s politburo and paved the way for him to contest the Sabaragamuwa Provincial Council poll on the JVP ticket. With fat hopes the JVP named him their chief ministerial candidate.

Key Opp demands

Pointing out that the matter before the Supreme Court judges related to them, the BASL requested that a bench consisting of a full court, comprising all the judges, be constituted to determine the constitutionality of the 22nd Amendment Bill. The BASL also requested the Supreme Court to determine that the Bill is inconsistent with Article 3 of the Constitution and required approval by the people at a referendum.

In the alternative, the BASL sought determination that Clause 2 of the Bill is inconsistent with Article 3 of the Constitution and required approval by the people at a referendum and Clause 3 of the Bill is inconsistent with Article 3 of the Constitution and required approval by the people at a referendum.

Essentially, all petitioners have requested for a full court, comprising all Supreme Court judges and a referendum, if ordered, it’ll be the second instance. The first referendum was held in December 1982. The UNP that won an unbeatable 5/6 majority in a 168-member Parliament, at the 1977 parliamentary election, obtained a mandate of the people to extend the life of Parliament by six years. That utterly undemocratic, unreasonable and treacherous act contributed to the overall deterioration of the country. By the time the 1989 parliamentary poll was held, the police, backed by the armed forces, were fighting the JVP in the South, and the Indian Army, deployed in the Northern and Eastern regions, in terms of the Indo-Lanka Accord.

Former External Affairs Minister Prof. G. L. Peiris, convenor of the Joint Opposition grouping, too, moved the Supreme Court against the 22nd Amendment, and General Secretary of the SJB Ranjith Maddumabandara did the same. Altogether there were nearly two dozen petitioners

Ex-Law Professor Peiris has vigorously campaigned against the government move, and the weekly media briefing. held at former President Wickremesinghe’s Flower Road Office, has become the focal point of the Opposition campaign. Peiris insists that the Supreme Court shouldn’t hear the petitions as justices were direct beneficiaries of the proposed Amendment. Therefore, determination should be made at a referendum. In case the Supreme Court decides to hear the petitions, the full court consisting of all judges should be constituted to determine the constitutionality of the 22nd Amendment Bill, the former parliamentarian has asserted.

As repeatedly stressed by Prof. Peiris, two previous determinations by the Supreme Court that the alteration of superior court judges’ retirement ages should be subject to a referendum cannot be disregarded, under any circumstances. One of the determinations is of crucial importance as former Chief Justice Murdhu Fernando (December 2024 to July 2025) served on the three-member bench that made the far reaching announcement in 2022.

But, the BASL made an unexpected move on Monday. Close on the heels of its petition against the 22nd Amendment to the Constitution, the BASL filed a motion in the Supreme Court suggesting that Chief Justice Preethi Padman Suresena recuse from hearing petitions.

Petitioners BASL President Rajeev Amarasuriya and its Secretary Nalin de Silva cited Attorney General as the respondent in a motion filed in terms of Article 121 read with Article 120 of the Constitution to determine whether the Bill, titled “Twenty Second Amendment to the Constitution,” or any part thereof, is required to be passed by a Referendum in terms of Article 83 of the Constitution.

The BASL pointed out that the first Judge of the Supreme Court, who would benefit if this Bill is enacted into law without the process of a referendum, is the Chief Justice, and further that if a referendum is mandated, then that there is a possibility that the Chief Justice may retire before its completion, and if for those reasons, the Chief Justice wished to recuse from hearing this matter, then the petitioners have requested the Chief Justice to constitute a bench comprising of all other judges in Supreme Court.

The maximum number of Supreme Court and Court of Appeal judges are 17, including the CJ and 20 judges ,including the President of the Court of Appeal, respectively. The NPP caused controversy by not filling vacancies among the superior court judges with the Opposition alleging there were four vacancies each. There’ll be another vacancy among the Court of Appeal judges in the first week of September.

The warning issued by the UN following a spate of other statements from various local and international bodies has brought tremendous pressure on the government. Having initially denied any knowledge of a joint letter, dated July 31, addressed to President Dissanayake by the Malwatta, Asgiriya, Amarapura and Ramanna chapters, the government, on 11 August, admitted the President received the letter.

However, the Catholic Bishops Conference publicly commented on this issue, only on 20 August, after all other concerned parties censured the government over the move. A section of the civil society that portrayed the 22nd Amendment as the panacea for a mountain of cases held up in courts had no option but to sing a different tune after the UN warned the NPP government over the pet project that seemed to have backfired. The UN’s position rattled the government and its backers.

18A and 20A

War-winning President Mahinda Rajapaksa enacted 18th Amendment to the Constitution in early September 2010. That despicable political project did away with a two-term time limit for the executive president and expanded presidential powers over independent commissions. That Bill received 161 votes, two more than the NPP parliamentary group. But, 18A didn’t do any good for President Rajapaksa or his party. Maithripala Sirisena, General Secretary of Mahinda Rajapaksa’s party, betrayed him, won the 2015 presidential election, and created an utterly undesirable political environment that, over a period of 10 years, ruined the country’s major political parties.

The emergence of the NPP as the dominant power should be examined taking into consideration the deterioration of the UNP, SLFP and the SLPP. The UNP and SLFP are no longer represented in Parliament while the SLPP that won a commanding 145 seats at the 2020 parliamentary poll was reduced to just three lawmakers in Parliament. SLPP’s National Organiser Namal Rajapaksa was so concerned about the transformation of the political environment he took refuge in the National List. Had he not taken that precaution, he wouldn’t be in Parliament today. While the SLPP deteriorated from 145 seats to just three, the NPP, whose 2020 parliamentary group consisted of just three, including one National List member (Dr. Harini Amarasuriya) ended up taking 159 seats, the best results achieved under the Proportional Representation system introduced in 1989.

Having handsomely won the 2019 presidential election, Gotabaya Rajapaksa brought in the 20th Amendment aimed at further consolidating his hold on power. Basil Rajapaksa, a dual citizen of Sri Lanka and the US, wanted to enter Parliament through the National List. The Rajapaksas removed a particular clause through the 19th Amendment to enable Basil Rajapaksa to enter Parliament. Subsequently, the SLPP accommodated Basil Rajapaksa in the Cabinet as the all-powerful Finance Minister. He succeeded Mahinda Rajapaksa in July 2021. But by then, the national economy had suffered irreparable damage and the 20th Amendment, meant to consolidate executive power, seemed irrelevant. Public protest campaign that received overt and covert US and Indian backing was launched in March 2022, leading to President Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s unceremonious ouster in July of same year due to India and Western backed violent protests.

The 18th Amendment and the 20th Amendment were enacted at the expense of particularly the 17th and 19th Amendments, respectively.

The Frontline Socialist Party (FSP) has alleged that the 22nd Amendment would enable the government to implement its neoliberal programme. The breakaway JVP group has asserted that the government’s sinister project is intended to remove whatever obstacles to its neoliberal strategy.

FSP’s Education Secretary Pubudu Jayagoda said: “A new Fisheries Act will divide the ocean into plots, lease the fish-rich areas to multinational corporations, and deprive local fishermen the opportunity to catch fish in the deep sea. The biggest obstacle to this is the fishermen. A Quality Assurance and Accreditation Commission Act is being drafted to grant state recognition and legality to degree mills. Three thousand schools are going to be closed, depriving children of the fundamental right to education. To do that, every pillar of the state must be brought under government control. A long list can be given: privatising hospital laboratory services, selling off state institutions, bringing forward new repressive laws like the PSTA (Protection of the State from Terrorism Act), and a new Cooperatives Act that snatches away people’s funds—many things like that. Taking the arbitrary power required to execute these into the hands of the executive is the true objective of this constitutional amendment.”

Midweek Review

Shakespeare’s female characters

Published

5 days ago

2026/08/26

Sahan Weerasooriya

Ophelia in a scene from Hamlet

Displaying Gender-Based Issues that Resonate with Our Times

by Dr. Siri Galhenage
Psychiatrist [Retd]

In most of William Shakespeare’s plays, the protagonists are male. He created such memorable characters as Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, Macbeth, Julius Caesar, Prospero, Coriolanus, the monarchs of history plays and many others – heroes as well as villains. This was a reflection of the societal values of the time. Women were not permitted to perform on stage, and all female roles were played by young males – a practice that continued for nearly half a century after Shakespeare’s death. This was so even though Elizabeth 1, the learned female monarch of England and Ireland and a humanist, occupied the throne during most of Shakespeare’s writing life [1580–1613], and extended her patronage to his plays.

Nevertheless, compared with his contemporaries Christopher Marlowe and Ben Jonson, Shakespeare wrote a greater number of plays featuring prominent female characters that drove the narratives, providing insights into intra-psychic, interpersonal, social and moral aspects of life.

I have selected two such female characters from Shakespeare’s plays and another from one of his narrative poems to illustrate this idea, focusing primarily on gender based violence – emotional, physical and sexual – that continues to resonate in our own times. I have also chosen another female character who challenged the gender constraints that imposed by contemporary society.

DESDEMONA in Othello –

A Victim of Morbid Jealousy

A scene from As You Like It

Jealousy, as a human experience, has many nuances of meaning, ranging from the harmless to the morbid, including delusional forms, with many variations in between. The object of concern in jealousy is the suspicion of unfaithfulness or infidelity on the part of a loved one, commonly a female partner in a marital relationship. In its morbid form, accompanied by intense passion, jealousy has the potential to be destructive and even dangerous, placing the spouse at risk. It is not an uncommon presentation in clinical practice attracting the diagnosis of ‘Othello Syndrome’ although there is disagreement among clinicians about the application of the term.

Othello, a valiant soldier of African heritage in the state of Venice, had no difficulty winning the heart of Desdemona, the attractive young daughter of a prosperous senator. He took her away in defiance of her father’s wish for her to marry into the Venetian nobility. At this point, the Turks were preparing to regain Venetian-held territory in Cyprus, and Othello, recognised for his military prowess, was selected to lead the defence of the territory.

Despite the imminent Turkish attack on Cyprus, Desdemona preferred to remain with her husband rather than stay in Venice. The attack did not eventuate, however, because a violent storm dispersed and destroyed the invading Turkish fleet. The Venetian forces rejoiced, and the occasion provided an added opportunity to celebrate the marriage of Othello and Desdemona.

Casio, a close confidant of Othello, who had been recently promoted to lieutenant, was delegated to supervise the festivities. Cassio’s promotion caused great offence to Iago, who strongly believed that he was better suited to the position. He plotted to take revenge on Othello and Cassio by planting the seed of doubt in Othello’s mind through innuendo and trickery, casting suspicion on Desdemona’s fidelity and on her relationship with good-looking Cassio. Desdemona, a woman of exuberance and humour, became the unwitting focus of Iago’s manipulation.

The dissonance that arose in Othello’s mind eventually reached a climax when he accused his wife of infidelity and became convinced that she should die. Despite Desdemona’s plea for compassion, Othello strangled her to death. On finally gaining insight into the whole saga, Othello fell on his sword beside his wife.

OPHELIA in Hamlet – A Case of Manic Defence in response
to emotional abuse

Hamlet, the Prince of Denmark, takes centre stage in the play of the same name, and his mental processes have been the focus of scrutiny by successive generations of critics.

Young Prince Hamlet is faced with a complex emotional challenge following the sudden death of his father, King Hamlet, he idolised. The late king’s brother, usurper to the throne, hastily marries the widowed queen, denying the young prince his lawful right to sovereignty. Hamlet’s grief is compounded by his outrage towards his mother and his lingering doubts about the circumstances of his father’s death. He lapses into a state of melancholy.

But the impact of Hamlet’s emotional instability and the displacement of his anger onto Ophelia, to whom the prince had professed his love, receive less attention by critics, despite the significant psychological issues raised by her predicament. The episode in which Hamlet directs his anger towards Ophelia – often referred to as the ‘nunnery scene’ – is considered one of the most vicious in all Shakespeare.

Get thee to a nunnery. Why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners?”…. “If thou dost marry, I’ll give this plague for thy dowry, be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shall not escape calamity. Get thee to a nunnery; go, farewell. Or if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool, for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery go, quickly too. Farewell

Her love for Prince Hamlet was forbidden from the outset by her father, the scheming counsellor, Polonius, and by her brother Laertes; she was obedient to them. With her dignity destroyed by the very person she loved and her father killed, albeit inadvertently by the hand of her lover, she nevertheless reacted with compassion. With her brother away in France, Ophelia is bereft of any meaningful relationships.

With no one left to confide in, her mind had no alternative but to escape reality. She lapsed into a state of mania – a state of ‘fragile happiness’ with underlying deep sorrow; an unconscious defensive operation of the mind known as ‘manic defence’, as described by Melanie Klein [1882-1960], the renowned Austrian Psychoanalyst.

In this state of mind, Ophelia presents herself before the king and queen, singing snatches of song concerning love, death and betrayal. Her behaviour is totally out of character to her formerly demure self. Here are a few excerpts from her verses illustrating what might be described as a ‘flight of ideas’.

How should I your true love know/ From another one? / By his cockle hat and staff/ And his sandal shoon…”

“He is dead and gone, lady/ He is dead and gone/ At his head a grass green turf/ At his heels a stone…

They say the owl was a baker’s daughter. Lord we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at your table …

Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny/ And in his grave rained many a tear …” “You must sing ’Adown adown’ and you call him adown-a.”

Later, Queen Gertrude, Hamlet’s mother, announced that Ophelia ‘Fell in a weeping brook while making garlands from crow-flowers, nettles, daisies and long purples’, and had made no attempt to save herself. At the graveyard two gravediggers discussed whether she deserves a Christian burial as she appeared to have taken her own life.

LUCRECE – in Shakespeare’s narrative poem The Rape

of Lucrece

Reworked from a story by the Roman historian Livy, Shakespeare’s innovative narrative poem, first published in 1594, gives access to the mind of a victim of sexual assault. Set in ancient Rome, the poem gives expression to the agony of Lucrece, the gracious wife of a nobleman, following a savage attack upon her by Sextus Tarquinius, the son of the brutal king Lucius Tarquinius of Rome.

During a joyous conversation, a group of young noblemen were commenting on the virtues of their wives when Collatinus extolled the incomparable beauty and chastity of his beloved Lucrece. Aroused by the description of her elegance, young Sextus makes a covert exit, ‘borne by the trustless wings of desire’ in pursuit of his prey –the peerless dame’, ‘weakly fortressed from a world of harm.

Lucrece warmly welcomes her royal guest, who shows no inward ill or outward harm. He praises her husband’s military prowess, ‘pawning his honour to obtain his lust. During the conversation he scans her beauty and burns with sexual desire, yet ‘is madly toss’d between desire and dread. His ambivalence finally gives way to desire. ‘Desire my pilot, beauty my prize/ ‘Then who fears sinking where such treasure lies?’ This said, he advances upon her, ‘like a falcon towering in the skies, that ‘Coutcheth the fowl with his wings’ ‘So under his insulting falcon lies/ Harmless Lucretia’ shade’, trembling with fear, ‘as fowl hear falcon’s bells’. She ‘lies at the mercy of his moral sting’ and finally succumbs ‘To the rough beast that knows no gentle right/ Nor aught obey but his foul appetite’.

Lucrece is shattered, perplexed and grief-stricken by the unexpected assault on her by her honoured guest. ‘I alone must sit and pine/ Seasoning the earth with showers of silver brine’. She weeps, ‘O unseen shame, invisible disgrace/ O unfelt sore, crest wounding private scar’. Her anguish is further expressed through the image of the violated hive. ’My honey lost, and I, a drone – like bee, have no perfection of my summer left/ But robb’d and ransack’d by injurious theft./ In thy weak hive a wand’ring wasp hath kept/ And suck’d the honey which thy chaste bee kept’.

In this state of mourning, Lucrece despatches two messengers: one to her father in Rome and the other to her husband on the battlefield. On their arrival, she reveals the circumstances of her agony and names the individual responsible. She then stabs herself to death.

Their entourage carry her body through Rome and vow to avenge the death of this ‘incomparable woman of chaste’. By public acclaim the reign of Tarquins is overthrown, and the rule of Rome handed over to the consuls.

A scene from Othello

ROSALIND in ‘As You Like It’ – Challenging the Gender Constraints

One of the few female characters to play a leading role is Rosalind in ‘As You Like It’. She remains much to the liking of many a theatre goer because of her wit, wisdom and inner strength. Rosalind transcends the constraints imposed on women during the Shakespearean era – constraints that continue to resonate in certain cultures even today.

Two young women of noble birth flee the oppressive court in disguise and seek refuge in the Forest of Arden. Rosalind disguised as a young man, Ganymede, while her devoted cousin Celia adopts the name Aliena. As they depart Celia declares, “Now go we in content/ To liberty, and not to banishment.” Orlando, the object of Rosalind’s affection, also escapes to the forest to evade the hostility of his brother. Unaware of Rosalind’s disguise, he expresses his love by hanging verses in her praise upon the trees. Although Rosalind discovers these poems, she chooses to maintain her disguise, using it as an opportunity to test Orlando’s devotion and explore the nature of love, courtship, and the differing gender expectations. The play reaches a conclusion by Rosalind dropping her disguise, and the two uniting in love.

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Gender-based violence is recognised globally as a pervasive violation of human rights and a significant social, cultural and public health concern. Violence against women, including emotional, physical and sexual, varies across societies in form and prevalence, and is often rooted in unequal power relations and social structures that perpetuate male dominance. Gender-based violence requires collective action through education, legal protection, economic empowerment, accessible support services and changes in attitudes and cultural practices. Power and influence should not be allowed to shield the perpetrators.

Art, including dramatic and literary art, serves to illuminate human experience. It allows us to explore emotions, ideas and moral dilemmas that may otherwise remain beyond ordinary expression. Art can entertain and inspire, but it can also challenge our assumptions, evoke empathy, and offer new ways of seeing ourselves and the world around us. In this sense, art is not merely a form of aesthetic pleasure; it is a means of understanding what it means to be human.

Desdemona, Ophelia, Lucrece and Rosalind are among Shakespeare’s more prominent female characters. The first three are innocent victims of male violence in different forms, evoking our empathy and compassion; the fourth challenges the gender assumptions and constraints of the time. Together, they illuminate gender-based issues that are both universal and timeless. In this sense, Shakespeare remains ‘our contemporary’, as Jan Kott, Polish-American literary critic, famously observed.