Features

The JRJ Personal and how he ran the show

Published

4 years ago

2022/09/18

by Sarath Amunugama

In the early Ceylon National Congress of which he and Dudley became joint Secretaries, JRJ was a committed rationalist while Dudley was typically less sure and a person who sometimes succumbed to his father’s admonitions. Largely to target Bandaranaike and his vacillating members of the Sinhala Maha Sabha which included Dudley and Sir John, JRJ sponsored a motion in the Ceylon National Congress that its members could not concurrently be members of other political formations.

This was opposed not only by Bandaranaike but also DS. Of all the young politicians it was only JRJ who categorically refused to join the Sinhla Maha Sabha. JRJ believed in the superiority of rationality and unflinching will. His heroes were Napoleon and Disraeli, both of whom rose to leadership because of their tactical skills and tenacity. He and his brother Harry would boast that they had read every book written about these two personalities.

Of all our Presidents it was JRJ who had a scholar’s interest in history. He had read widely and was well informed of the history of Buddhism and Sri Lanka. He once told me that he used to visit historical sites with Archeological Commissioner Senerat Paranavitana. His speeches were full of allusions to Buddhist and Sinhalese history. It is my interpretation that he looked on the Executive Presidency not only through western eyes but also as a form of leadership which had evolved through Sinhala kingship.

To him the President was the equivalent of the Sinhala ruler in his powers as well as benevolence and concern for the public good. Like the Sinhala ruler he wanted to be ‘A father to his people’ He told his listeners, including President Ronald Reagan, that he came from a long line of Sinhala rulers who wielded power for 2,500 years. It must be stated here however that this was exactly what the opposition was worried about. As NM Perera and Colvin R de Silva had said on many occasions, they could not agree to a concept of an omnipotent President, just as much as they had criticized the pre-modern social structures of feudalism and kingship.

Not surprisingly this was the same criticism levelled by French critics of the Gaullist constitution as creating “Le roi De Gaulle” – De Gaulle the King. In many ways De Gaulle and JRJ shared common characteristics. The sense of history, the idea that previous attempts at governance had failed, the need for a strong leader who was tried and tested who put the national interest above all, a leader who distanced himself from the ‘hoi poloi’ and instilled fear in his own ranks were common to both leaders.

They were both thought to be aloof but committed to the glory of a nation with a sublime history. Both said “trust me and not the institutions” which have failed. Ironically both men ran into organized oppositions which were ruthless and unsparing and had to unhappily retire to their personal homes and away from the hurly burly of politics which had been their fifes mission.

Nayaka Thuma

Political parties have evolved modes of addressing their leaders. The left called their leaders ‘comrades’ which was translated into Sinhala as `sahodarayas’ [brothers]. It led to cultural misunderstandings when sons and daughters of leaders began to address their parents as `sahodarayas’ at public meetings leading to peals of laughter of disbelief from the party faithful. Both DS and Bandaranaike were called ‘Lokka’ by their followers, usually out of their hearing. Mrs. B was universally and respectfully addressed as `Methiniya’.

But JRJ preferred to be addressed as ‘Nayaka Thuma’ which is the closest approximation to undisputed leader or ‘Der Fuhrer’. In his watch there could be only one leader and `Nayaka Thuma’ made sure that all, including the ambitious Premadasa who was a great wordsmith himself, got the message. After JRJ other UNP leaders used the same appellation but with less and less acceptance by the rank and file till under Ranil it became a word of abuse.

It was with supreme confidence that JRJ adapted Napoleon’s phrase to say that he ‘had rolled up the electoral map of Sri Lanka’. Even when he addressed President Reagan and his guests at a White House dinner, JRJ claimed that as Head of State he was in a line with an uninterrupted leadership of over 2,500 years. He did not say that USA had only just celebrated its bi-centennial.

JRJ always crafted his speeches. They were short and full of memorable phrases. He was the earliest to end his speeches with quotations from the Buddha’s teachings. Bandaranaike, like JRJ a convert to Buddhism from Anglican Christianity, never resorted to the use of Buddhist stanzas and imagery. He was at home with Western classics. Once JRJ told me that if you cannot convey your message in ten minutes, even an hour of speech time would be of no use.

He had no time for the Bandaranaike type of oratory. On several occasions when he addressed small groups, like corporation workers, he would effortlessly speak in English and I would translate it to Sinhala. He was a much better speaker in English than in Sinhala, though with his usual thoroughness he had taken Sinhala lessons early in his political career. We were amused when he continued to use Sinhala phrases of the thirties but were now out of vogue.

JRJ believed that the leader should be exemplary. Whether he believed in the concept of the Nietzschean superman or not, he elevated the role of the National leader who in his life style and political acumen dominates society He was an admirer of Gandhi and in his heroic period as Leader of the Opposition he tried to use Gandhian tactics such as Satyagraha, long marches and pujas in Temples and Kovils. But, also like Gandhi, he did not encourage obscurantism.

While accommodating political forays into religion he had contempt for superstition and rituals. One of his oft related stories was about how he was sworn in as President. In 1977, he said, he took oaths as Prime Minister as soon as possible as he did not want any disruption by SLFPers and leftists. He had no time to consult astrologers. In 1983 it was different. Menikdiwela had consulted the best astrologers and he took his oaths at the appointed time. The first term was trouble free, he said, but the astrologically ordained second term was a disaster.

So much for astrology. His Buddhism, which he studied diligently, was of the intellectual type based on the translations of the Pali Text Society which some social anthropologists have called ‘Euro Buddhism’. But he is the only leader I know who had donated extensive personal properties to the Sangha [an exception is Wijepala Mendis who donated his lands to the Sangha in memory of his son who committed suicide.]

Under JR’s watch no priest was allowed to contest for seats from the UNP. When senior monks came to discuss ethnic relations with him, he asked them to mind their own business just as he did not advise them on Sangha matters. It was the concept of ‘the national leader’ that animated his drive to abolish the 1972 Constitution and establish a new Constitution with wide powers of the Executive President. The Executive Presidency had flourished ever since, in spite of the monotonous pledge of every Presidential aspirant to abolish it. The ‘Chintanaya’ introduced by him facilitating an Open Economy remains the same under different catchy phrases in the manifestos of all would be Executive Presidents. The Executive Presidency itself still remains with added powers.

Two years after his death a newspaper asked me to reminisce about JRJ’s personality. I wrote the following article entitled `Thinking of JRJ’:

“Before 1983, even the casual caller at ‘Braemar’ in Ward Place was likely to find the door being opened for him by President Jayewardene himself. Then calling his big black dog to heel he would lead you with that characteristic shuffle of his feet to a little front office with a ‘swing door’.

“The first things that struck you about JRJ was his simplicity and neatness. Everything about him was unpretentious but neatly and methodically arranged. It stood in stark contrast to the vulgar displays of many of his ‘nouveau riche’ parliamentary colleagues. There is a saying that ‘old money never shows’. This was very true of JRJ. Visitors were taken aback when JRJ after politely inquiring whether you wanted tea or a cool drink would a little later shuffle towards you to serve the drink himself From time to time he would take his confidantes out onto his spacious garden where they would be served a choice whisky or a brandy.

“As President he would invite his close friends for dinner at his table in Queen’s House and linger over brandy and cigars reminiscing about great political figures. He admired D.S. Senanayake and would regale his young devotees with stories about the Old Man’s political acumen. One of his favourite stories was about how he and the young Turks of the Ceylon National Congress including Dudley, went to issue an ultimatum to Sir Don Baron Jayatillake at his residence and was so moved by the kindly old leader and his fatherly advice that they hastily aborted their plans.

“The ‘Wap Magula’ was one of JRJ’s brain waves which he drew from his readings of the ancient lore of Sri Lanka — another of his intellectual pursuits. During Dudley Senanayake’s first premiership, he arranged a ‘Wap Magula’ at which Sir Oliver Goonetillake, who was usually dressed in Saville Row clothes, was forced to step into a paddy field with a China silk sarong tucked between his legs. This naturally caused much mirth among the poor village farmers of Akmeemana where the ceremony was held. Sir Oliver had to endure the barbs of satirists like Tarzie Vittachi for the rest of his life for his unfamiliar sartorial transformation.

“The JRJ sponsored Wap Magula’ at Panduwasnuwara in 1978 was not much better. The Agriculture Minister EL Senanayake turned up in a sarong, banian, Nike tennis shoes and Gucci sunglasses. As soon as he set foot in the paddy field he sank up to his knees. There was pandemonium as ministers jostled to appear with JRJ in the news photos. They did not have a clue about ploughing and were thrashing about. The President however confidently handled the plough even though he was warned that the buffaloes might bolt because of the huge klieg lights flashed on them by the Government Film Unit.

“A week later a documentary film made of that ceremony was screened at ‘Braemar’ for the President’s friends. JRJ was mightily pleased when all agreed that he, at 73, had the best figure among the politicians who had stripped down to their loin cloths for the ‘Wap Magula’.

“One of JRJ’s great characteristics was that he was never excited or overawed by anything. Once he made up his mind he would go to the bitter end, come what may. He used to relate how an inner clique had tried to isolate him in the Dudley Senanayake cabinet. This group would meet beforehand and plan to humiliate him at Cabinet meetings. He was stripped of some of the departments in his ministry – particularly control of the media, as someone had carried tales that he was trying to build himself up in the public eye.

“Unperturbed JRJ had taken the ‘Time’ magazine to cabinet and was busy reading it while his ministerial colleagues waited in vain for him to speak, to begin their attack. When Lalith and Gamini left the Premadasa Cabinet he recalled this episode and advised them to remain within the government. They ignored his advice and faced many difficulties later.

“After the historic signing of the Indo – Sri Lanka Accord JRJ shuffled up to the microphone and looking Rajiv Gandhi straight in the eye said “We can forgive but we cannot forget”. But the trust that was soon built up between the two leaders was so strong that Rajiv threw caution to the winds and came to JRJ’s rescue by inducting Indian troops to the North and East thereby releasing Sri Lankan security forces to fight the JVP in the South.

“It is one of the supreme ironies of modern times in our country that had Rajiv not come to Sri Lanka and had he not been subjected to an attack by a JVP indoctrinated naval rating, India may not have intervened, and certainly not so swiftly, and thereby caught the JVP on the wrong foot. The JVP rating made a costly mistake. The JVP by turning to violence opened the door to Indian intervention which JRJ meant to be only an action of the last resort. A section of the UNP that stabbed JRJ in the back, after the Indo-lanka agreement was signed were also responsible for encouraging the JVP. During those days the President was at his stubborn best resolutely refusing to yield to communalism and going back on a pledge given to a neighboring country.

“Coming from a distinguished legal family one of his failings was that he looked on most problems in legal terms. This is a common failing of lawyers in Parliaments all over the world. Since they spend a lifetime preparing, presenting, and defending bits and pieces of legislation they think that changes and additions to the statute book solves all problems.

“Life is rarely like that. But the over dependence on the law and cynical interpretations of legal provisions led JRJ and his supporters to many undemocratic acts and to violations of human rights. Amendments to the constitution to solve parochial political issues led to the debasement of the Constitution and the Presidency. The cynical manipulation of power to harass Vijaya Kumaratunga and his hypocritical persecution of the left, including the JVP after the April disturbances, were examples of the abuse of executive authority. He also condoned the abuses of the army under ‘Bull’ Weeratunga in the north against the Tamil youth which hastened the militarization of the conflict and added to the bitterness of the combatants.

“One always sensed that ‘Papa knows best’ type of feeling when JRJ discussed constitutional issues. He knew that so called legal eagles and human rights activists who confronted him were his intellectual inferiors. ‘This was one aspect of his ego which was assiduously massaged by acolytes like Lalith and Gamini. This legal ambience in the cabinet was galling to Premadasa who was a realist brought up in the school of hard knocks. He too then went about saying “I also know the law”, since he was brought up in Hulftsdorp. Later he gave free rein to the military and para-military formations who battled the LTTE and the JVP.

“President Jayewardene’s death removes from the scene a dominant personality of post-independence Sri Lanka. He was a political giant in every way”.

Cabinet

It would be fair to say that JRJ had the most competent Cabinet of Ministers of modern times. As usual the new Prime Minster had been very thorough in his decision making. He first accommodated all the seniors who were Cabinet ministers in previous UNP governments. Premadasa, M.D.H. Jayawardene, Monty Jayawickreme, E.L. Senanayake, Mohamed and Hurulle were all thus accommodated. He also brought in party seniors who had helped him like Mathew, Hameed, Festus Perera, Jayasuriya and Wijetunga.

Having secured that flank he chose two technocrats Ronnie de Mel and Nissanka Wijeratne, both ex-CCS, to man key ministries-Finance for de Mel and Education for Wijeyaratne. Last, he inducted two young stars of the party, Gamini Dissanayake and Lalith Athulathmudali. They too were given plum portfolios. Everybody could see the logic of the leader’s decisions and there was little of the heartburn that usually follows the selection of cabinet ministers.

Another key factor was that JRJ was clearly ‘Primus inter pares’. While he acknowledged that the victory was a combined effort, ministers knew that he was supreme, having brought the UNP to a historic and unprecedented win which would have been unthinkable under the Senanayakes. He also made it known that he would not brook any underhand maneuvering which had been a regular feature of Sri Lankan party politics.

Later on, we will see that there was some dissatisfaction among his senior colleagues -M.D.H. Jayawardana, Gamini Jayasuriya and E.L. Senanayake. JRJ showed no mercy to them in asking for their resignation from their ministerial positions when disagreements came to the surface. But both sides stuck to the rules and the transitions took place in a civilized manner with JRJ writing to them to thank them for services rendered.

While the cabinet ministers were able and willing, several of them were highly ambitious and had no doubts about their fitness to succeed the Old Man who in his own words had “climbed to the top of the greasy pole” at the ripe age of 72. He was fighting fit and unfailingly followed every morning, a rigorous exercise regime tailored for the Canadian Air Force, but that did not prevent several of his Ministers nursing ambitions of succeeding him one day.

Their hopes were raised even before the 1977 election when JRJ, with no warning, held a straw poll to form a 10-man committee to manage the election campaign. Premadasa came first by a small margin. The surprise was Gamini Dissanayake’s performance coming a strong second, thus fueling his already vaulting ambition. Ronnie de Mel and Lalith Athulathmudali also made it to the group. It sent a clear signal to Premadasa and the party seniors that they would not have a cakewalk to the top. It also created a sense of competition among the front runners which simmered right through JRJ’s two terms and blew the party apart after Premadasa donned the mantle.

While this competition helped in running an efficient administration it must be recognized that it exacerbated tensions among the front runners. JRJ gave ear to them all and while not discouraging them did not overtly back any one of them either. He was a master at giving each of them hope, while not showing his hand in any way. To complicate matters there were two others outside this ring who believed that they had JRJ’s blessings to go to the top. One was Anandatissa de Alwis, a party grandee who managed both the political and personal entanglements of Sir John Kotelawala.

He was the kingpin of the UNP youth league in the early days and had been recruited by JRJ as his Permanent Secretary in the 1965 Dudley led administration. They were close friends and the leader’s unilateral decision to make him Speaker of the House did not please Ananda who wanted to be a Minister, preferably in charge of the old ministry in which he was Permanent Secretary. The other was Upali Wijewardene, JRJ’s cousin who had emerged as a clever and ambitious business magnate.

He wrapped himself in the mantle of a hero of the south because his mother and the source of his wealth came from a prominent family in the southern heartland. This was a direct affront to Ronnie de Mel, who also was burnishing his southern credentials as the representative for Devinuwara, the abode of Vishnu- the guardian god of the South. Vishnu is believed to be the only god who did not run away when the Buddha was threatened-by Mara.

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Features

The new doctor–patient relationship in the age of AI

Published

10 hours ago

2026/07/8

Sahan Weerasooriya

When Patients Become Partners:

The Waiting Room That Never Empties

Picture a government hospital outpatient department on any weekday morning. Rows of plastic chairs fill before five o’clock. A mother holds a feverish infant against her chest, a folder of lab reports on her lap. An elderly man has travelled two-six hours by bus from his village. When she finally reaches the doctor, perhaps after three hours of waiting, the consultation lasts 2-4 minutes. A prescription is written in a hand that only the pharmacist has any hope of deciphering.

This is not a story of negligent unempathetic doctors. Most of those doctors are exhausted, processing 60 or 70 patients before lunch, doing the rough arithmetic of a system stretched well beyond its seams. Some patients jokingly compare busy clinics to a skilled coconut plucker moving rapidly from one tree to the next—not because doctors lack compassion, but because the system often leaves them little time to pause. In the private sector, the metaphor shifts — but only in its economics, not its pace. There, the imperative is to climb as many coconut trees as possible. What changes is who bears the cost of the hurry.

A legacy worth defending

Sri Lanka’s public health record is, by any regional measure, something to be proud of. Free healthcare at the point of delivery, a maternal/infant mortality rate that rivals middle-income countries far wealthier than us, these are not accidents. They are the product of generations of political will, professional dedication, and the idea that good health is a right, not a privilege.

The economic crisis of recent years sent a wave of trained doctors and nurses toward the Gulf, Australia, Canada and the United Kingdom. Specialists, who took a decade to train, departed within months. Meanwhile, the cost of private consultations has climbed beyond the reach of ordinary families, pushing them back toward an overstretched public system, or toward no professional care at all.

Patients who did their homework

Something else has changed, and it has changed faster than the system expected. The patient sitting across from the doctor today is not the patient of 10 years ago. She may have spent the previous evening consulting reputable online health resources or AI assistants, such as ChatGPT, to better understand her symptoms. He may have photographed his blood test results and run them through an AI tool that flagged an anomaly before the doctor mentioned it. They arrive with questions, about what additional tests are necessary for further diagnosis, about whether a test is strictly necessary, about what a particular reading on their lipid panel actually means for their life, especially when their life-styles are different. This is what educated, anxious human beings do when something threatens their health. The information age did not ask permission. It simply arrived.

The response from some doctors has been impatience, the feeling that an informed patient is a difficult patient. But the more productive response, increasingly voiced by thoughtful practitioners, is to see this shift as an opportunity. An informed patient is an engaged patient. An engaged patient is more likely to follow a treatment plan, more likely to return for follow-up, more likely to catch an error.

Authority to partnership

The old model of medicine was hierarchical by design. The doctor knew; the patient obeyed. That model had its logic, in an era when the knowledge gap between professional and layperson was absolute. That gap has not closed, but it has narrowed leading to a partnership.

There are doctors in Sri Lanka who already practise this way: arriving on time, spent 15-30 minutes with patients, contactable over the phone specially after a difficult procedure, for communicating plainly and without condescension. They are proof that the ideal is not utopian. It is achievable, which means the question is how to make it the norm rather than the exception.

Smarter, Not Harder

This is where technology enters, not as a replacement for clinical judgment but as a tool for reducing the friction that currently exhausts both doctor and patient.

Take the laboratory report cycle. A patient visits the doctor, is sent for tests, and a second appointment is required. A patient who arrives having already run those results through an AI-assisted tool is not trying to bypass clinical judgment or sidestep any genuine treatment decision. They are trying to eliminate a visit if they “know” that sole purpose is simply for an interpretation of the lab results. That second visit consumes time, money, efforts and transport. AI-assisted interpretation tools, not diagnostic systems, but educational ones, can give a patient a plain-language summary of their results (sometimes using Sherlock Holms’s theory of process of elimination to narrow down the possible causes) before they even walk into the consulting room. The doctor’s time is then spent on clinical decision-making, not on explaining what a haemoglobin or platelets count is.

Then there is the prescription. Illegible handwriting on a small slip of paper has long been a quiet patient safety hazard, and it is worth noting that AI tools have already begun helping patients and pharmacists decode what was written. But digital prescriptions go a step further: they eliminate the ambiguity entirely, and allow a patient to scan what they have been given, learn the name of each drug, understand what it does, and be alert to any side effects. This is not a challenge to the doctor’s authority. And when a patient discovers in the process that an approved generic equivalent costs a fraction of the branded price, they are empowered, not endangered.

Telemedicine, which got a reluctant push during the pandemic and has since retreated in public imagination, deserves a second look. Follow-up consultations for stable chronic conditions, blood pressure reviews, diabetes management, post-operative monitoring, need not always require a physical journey. The technology exists. The will to use it more widely is what remains to be mobilised.

Wisdom in herb garden

No conversation about healthcare in Sri Lanka is complete without acknowledging the parallel system that millions of people have never abandoned: traditional Hela medicine. Ayurveda, Siddha, Unani, and the vast informal knowledge embedded in village practice, these are not simply alternatives to modern medicine. For many Sri Lankans, they are the first resort.

The relationship between indigenous knowledge and scientific medicine has too often been one of mutual suspicion. Modern practitioners dismiss traditional remedies as unproven; traditional practitioners regard clinical trials as a foreign imposition. Neither position is adequate.

Consider Heen Bovitiya — known to botanists as Osbeckia octandra and to generations of Sri Lankan grandmothers as a trusted remedy for liver complaints and jaundice. Serious liver disease remains one of the conditions for which Western medicine offers no easy answer: its definitive treatment is a transplant — costly, risky, and followed by a lifetime of expensive immunosuppressant medication. Against that reality, a plant with pre-clinical evidence of hepatoprotective and anti-inflammatory properties is not a curiosity. It is a serious research priority. The studies so far are promising. They are also, as yet, large-scale clinical trials in humans have not been conducted, and questions of optimal dosage, mechanism of action, and drug interactions remain open.

The honest position is neither to dismiss the remedy nor to prescribe it uncritically. It is to say: this is a serious candidate for rigorous investigation, and Sri Lanka, which grows the plant, knows its traditional uses, and has the academic institutions to study it, is precisely the right place to conduct that research. AI tools that can process vast pharmacological datasets may accelerate that work considerably.

The future of healthcare should not be a competition between Western and indigenous medicine, but a commitment to evaluating all treatments by the same standards of safety, effectiveness, and quality.

Future Is Not a Machine. It Is a Better Conversation.

The fear that artificial intelligence will replace doctors is, at this stage, a distraction from the more important question. AI cannot examine a patient. It cannot feel the anxiety in a room. What it can do is handle the transactional, the look-up, the summary, the cross-reference, so that the human part of medicine can breathe.

The future worth working toward is not AI versus doctors. It is AI and doctors and informed patients, each contributing what they do best. The doctor could bring clinical expertise and the irreplaceable capacity for compassion. The patient brings self-knowledge, lived experience, and, increasingly, preparation. The technology brings tireless availability and pattern recognition at scale.

What we measure matters. A consulting room’s success should not be counted in patients seen per hour. It should be counted in patients who leave feeling informed about their condition, respected as partners in their own care, reassured that someone is genuinely attending to them, and confident about what to do next.

The Thing Patients Remember

There is a truth that experienced nurses know, that the best doctors quietly understand, and that patient experience research consistently confirms: patients may forget the prescriptions. They may forget the name of the drug, the dosage, even the diagnosis. But they rarely forget how they were treated, pleasant or rude.

They remember the doctor who looked up from the desk. The one who said, “That’s a good question.” The one who spent two extra minutes to listen, drawing a small diagram to explain where the problem was. They remember being seen, not just examined, but truly seen, as a person rather than a case number.

Sri Lanka has those doctors and nurses, in every district, in every ward, working against the odds. The task now is to build a system worthy of them, and of the patients who place their lives, without much choice in the matter, in their hands.

Technology may transform medicine. Artificial intelligence may transform diagnosis. Digital health may transform hospitals. But trust will always define healing.

(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe. Views expressed in this article are personal.)

Features

Eric J. de Silva: consummate public servant and my life-long friend

Published

10 hours ago

2026/07/8

Sahan Weerasooriya

Eric J. de Silva

By G. Usvatte-aratchi
(B.A. (Cey.); Ph.D. (Cantab.))

Eric came to Ramanathan Hall in June, 1954, from Mahinda College, Galle, with much celebrity. He was one of the youngest in the freshmen class. In Galle, in the 1950s, there were several schools where students studied to enter the University of Ceylon: Mahinda, Richmond and St. Aloysius’. Mahinda College, under Principal E .A. Wijesuriya, had become a powerhouse, sending brilliant students to the University of Ceylon. Siri Gunasinghe was on his way to stardom, shining brightly in Sinhala poetry, fiction and drama, besides his main academic interest in arts history. Eric, in time, shone with no less brilliance in a wider constellation, spreading enriching light onto the lives of millions of people in this land. I was privileged to be his friend.

We were two among the 20 students who studied for the Economics Special degree, 1958. His teachers included A. J. Wilson and I. D. S. Weerawardena, both outstanding academics who excelled as scholars as well as teachers. His fellow students were Mirani Perera (Secretary, Central Bank), Dharmasiri de Alwis (later Dharmasiri Senanayake), (Secretary of the SLFP, a Minister in Sirimavo Bandaranaike’s government, and a smart politician), Wijeratne (GATT, Geneva) and several others. I followed a different specialisation and chose a different career.

In 1959, Eric joined the public service as a member of the elite Ceylon Civil Service. It was usual for a few of the smartest students in the university, each year, to compete for a few places in the Ceylon Civil Service and Eric was one of them. A few who preferred an academic career stayed back in the university; in our year Hemapala Wijewardena, a truly brilliant man who rose to be Professor in the Department of Sinhala in Colombo, was one such.

In 1955 (or 1956?) N. K. Sarkar from Calcutta, who taught us statistics, and S. J. Tambiah, who later became Director of the Peabody Museum and a world-renowned anthropologist at Harvard, undertook a survey of five villages in Patadumbara, as they were interested in changes in our society and agrarian relations in that part of the country. The findings of that Survey, published by the University of Ceylon Press as ‘The Disintegrating Village,’ were seminal, in effect. The anthropological studies of Edmund Leach (of Cambridge), Pul Eliya and later, the prolific work of the anthropologist Gananath Obeysekera (of Princeton) were deeply influenced as to the methods of research and subject matter thereof. Eric and I were teamed together to visit families and fill questionnaires. One morning, we noticed that the families we visited lived in thatched houses, most of which had no lockable doors. Out of curiosity we gently inquired why they did not lock their doors. They in return asked us why would anyone want to burgle homes where there was nothing to steal.

Eric married Trixie soon after she graduated having wooed her after she came to Peradeniya. Trixie and her sister Dulcie lived with their aunt in a house immediately next to the Boys’ Hostel of the Hikkaduva Central School, where we juniors were housed. Their brother Derek was at school (Richmond?) in Galle and later joined the Army as an officer. Sarachchandra started rehearsing students to act in Maname in 1956 and Trixie was selected to the small choir. Eric immediately became a keen, avid aficionado of drama and missed hardly any rehearsal. He made sure that he stayed close to Peradeniya after graduation by securing a position as a teacher in Dharmaraja College, Kandy. Their four children brought distinction to themselves and their parents. Nishantha, a scientist, who taught at Jayewardenepura, and later at State College, Pennsylvania, was most remarkable in her devotion to the care of her son; Manjula won first class honours in economics at Colombo and obtained a higher degree in London; Varuna, who stayed back in Colombo with his father and Sanjaya with a Ph.D. from Yale and was a Professor of Economics at Bard College in upstate New York. Apart from their intellectual brilliance they honoured themselves and their parents by maintaining lives of the highest integrity.

Eric was the Government Agent in Trincomalee for several years and lived in a bungalow in a sprawling compound with the beach as one boundary. Deer freely roamed in his compound. One summer, which we spent in Colombo, my family were their guests. Trixie and Eric were perfect and graceful hosts and the children had a whale of a time which they recalled for many years. Varuna was the leader of the gang and we had one photograph (from those days of cumbersome photography) of them going in a procession on the beach. As the children grew up to go to school, Eric came to live in Wijerama Mawatha, Colombo.

Among the episodes in his work that Eric talked about, two stand out in my memory. Eric worked in an office of Prime Minster of Sirimavo Bandaranaike, with W. T. Jayasinghe as the Permanent Secretary. Martin Wickremasinghe’s novel Bava Taranaya was published in 1973 and, immediately, there was widespread agitation among some Buddhists because the account in the novel of the life of Siddhartha Gautama differed very much from the orthodox accounts that had grown over more than a millennium. Prominent learned bhikkhu led the charge, among them Yakkaduve Pragnarama of Vidyalankara and Henpitagedera Gnanaseeha. Bhikku were one of the highly influential parts of the constituency of SLFP and Gnanaseeha was one of the most prominent among them. Bandaranaike was a most astute politician and could not be rushed into any ill-advised action. Jayasinghe informed Eric that the Prime Minister wanted a report on the book to help her make up her mind on the question. During a weekend, Eric read the novel and his report was handed over by Jayasingha to the Prime Minister. Someone wrote an evaluation of Bava Taranaya, a few days ago in the Lankadeepa.

When Eric was in Trincomalee, Amaradasa Gunawardena (Ramanathan,1958, Sinhala Special) was in Polonnaruva. One year there was a severe drought which threatened to ruin the rice crop in Trincomalee while the reservoirs in Polonnaruva were brimful. There was much agitation and rice growers urged politicians and public servants to seek solutions. Eric spoke to Amaradasa and went to meet him at the border. Hope ran high in Trincomalee. In the evening, when he returned to his office, Eric was garlanded and there was much jubilation. He continued to be feted the whole week. Many prominent citizens and savvy politicians urged Eric to contest the Trincomalee seat in Parliament. There were precedents when successful Government Agents had successfully entered politics from their districts. Eric limited himself to become a distinguished public servant.

Eric’s work at the Ministry of Education made a lasting impression on his mind. Of the many problems he handled as a senior public servant, nothing interested him as school education did. I had learnt about medieval universities, for the first time, in a course of three lectures that Fr. S. I. Pinto delivered in my first year at Peradeniya. Eric was not in that course. I read Rashdall’s three-volume definitive study on that subject and has never stopped reading it. I came back to live in Colombo in 1996, with a commitment to contribute to educating the public on economics and social problems in the country and selectively elsewhere. About that time there were a few scholars actively studying school education: Swarna Jayaweera, S. Sanderasegaram, Ariyadasa de Silva (all in Colombo), Chandra Gunawardana (Open University) and G. B. Gunawardana (NIE). They were mostly students of the illustrious professor J .E. Jayasuriya (Peradeniya). They provided a small audience with whom we could share our interests. Both Eric and I delivered lectures in honour of J. E. Jayasuriya. Eric used to pick up Varuna’s daughter from the British School which was 10 minutes’ walk from my home and Eric, not infrequently, stepped in. We often chatted on subjects that interested us. After a while, Eric suggested that we might collect a few more people to join in the conversations. Effortlessly, we went back to Peradeniya days and invited Haris de Silva (historian and Government Archivist), W. M. K. Wijetunge (historian and Professor) K. S. E. Jayatilaka (Economic Statistician and Deputy Governor, Central Bank) and Mettananda (Ministry of Education).

We pompously called ourselves the Education Research and Study Group (ERSG) and met in my porch. Each of us contributed an equal sum of money, which did not amount to a lot but we managed it carefully. The only resources we received from outside were the services of a professor from a German university, which the Goethe-Institut, Colombo paid for. We mostly chatted about what we had read and mused about in the previous fortnight and our reactions to educational matters that had come up. We discussed both school and university education. Our discussions inspired Eric to write the short book, ‘Politics of Education Reform and other Essays’. When we had sufficient material, we called a public seminar and were pleasantly surprised that we had an audience. We congratulated ourselves when the ministry changed a policy or other course of action in reaction our presentations in the press. We disbanded ourselves when some of us pre-occupied themselves with other matters.

We celebrate Eric’s life and work. He carried with himself the education and training that he received from Mahinda College, Galle and the University of Ceylon. With quiet efficiency, that was characteristic of much of the Civil Service, Eric worked at the highest levels in management when institutions in the new state Ceylon were yet in a formative stage. As that state matured into Sri Lanka, the purposes and procedures in many of those institutions frayed and their energy sapped. The commitment and the enthusiasm that Eric exhibited are high value assets with which to start their reformation and revitalisation.

Features

People’s mandate and judicial legitimacy

Published

1 day ago

2026/07/7

Sahan Weerasooriya

BASL public forum held last Saturday

Sri Lanka is witnessing the dismantling of the culture of impunity that dominated public life for decades. This is happening through the courts, police investigations and legal process. It is not an easy task and requires strong leadership as it is generating strong resistance. The ongoing revelations about the nexus between politicians, including those at the highest levels, and criminal networks show that the government’s electoral mandate with regard to corruption and crime is now being translated into action through the legal system. The vote of the people at the last national elections was for a corruption free country and an end to the climate of impunity that had prevailed for decades. They voted for a system change that would replace impunity with accountability under the rule of law. They expected those who had looted the country and brought it to the point of bankruptcy to be held accountable through the due process of law.

The cases that are being investigated by the police, in tandem with the Attorney General’s Department, and adjudicated by the judiciary are based on hard evidence. Much of the evidence that is now receiving publicity had been available several years ago and had even entered the legal process. In the past those cases failed to reach fruition. Investigations lost momentum, prosecutions failed to marshal the available evidence and many cases were dismissed, some on technical grounds. Between 2019 and 2024, a total of 102 cases were withdrawn from the courts by the government authorities. The public knew, or strongly believed, that corruption and serious crimes had taken place. The inability to establish wrongdoing before a court of law and hold those responsible accountable created a climate in which political power appeared to provide protection from legal accountability.

A countrywide study titled Factors Guiding Voter Preference in Elections in Sri Lanka was commissioned by the National Peace Council prior to the 2024 elections under the European Union funded project Active Citizens for Elections and Democracy and conducted by researchers Dr Mahesh Senanayake and Ms Crishni Silva of the University of Colombo. It found overwhelming public support for accountability and good governance. While 93 percent of respondents identified resolving the economic crisis as their foremost electoral concern, an equally striking 83 percent said they prioritised candidates committed to fighting corruption. The mandate given to the government can, therefore, be interpreted to mean to restore integrity to public life and end the long standing culture of impunity.

Different Approach

Today, it can be seen that the police, the Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption, the Attorney General’s Department and the judiciary are approaching matters of impunity in respect of corruption and crime in a manner that is markedly different from the past. Several persons who formerly occupied high office have now been subjected to due legal process and, in a number of cases, convicted after judicial scrutiny at different levels of the court system. This is an important difference from earlier years when cases involving politically prominent persons frequently failed to proceed or collapsed before reaching their conclusion. The strength of the present accountability process lies not only in the convictions that have been secured but also in the growing public confidence that no one is above the law. It is in this context that reports of a government proposal to extend by two years the retirement age of judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal have generated support from those who wish to see the present accountability process continue and opposition from those who see it as an attempt to influence the judiciary.

Many countries have increased judicial retirement ages in recognition of longer life expectancy and the value of retaining experienced judges. This has not only been limited to the judiciary but also the academia and the public service. However, the controversy in Sri Lanka is due to the context and as the proposal for an extension of the period of service of judges of the superior courts comes at a time when the courts are hearing politically significant corruption and criminal cases. The Bar Association of Sri Lanka has taken the lead in questioning the proposed constitutional amendment. The BASL has stated that it “notes with grave concern” reports that the government is considering increasing the retirement age of judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal. It has warned that extending the tenure of sitting judges at this point of time is likely to be viewed by the public as an attempt to interfere with the independence of the judiciary.

The main issue raised by the BASL is therefore one of preserving public confidence in the administration of justice. A discussion organised by the BASL also highlighted that this issue has implications beyond Sri Lanka. Representatives of the Commonwealth Lawyers Association and LAWASIA acknowledged that many countries have increased the retirement age of judges in recognition of greater life expectancy and the value of retaining experienced judges. Their concern was not with increasing the retirement age itself but with changing the tenure of sitting judges while politically significant corruption cases are before the courts. In such circumstances, even well intentioned reform could create a public perception that the judiciary is being influenced to take forward the government’s mandate in a partisan manner.

Maintain Confidence

The challenge before the government is to preserve two equally important objectives. The first is to continue implementing the people’s mandate to hold the corrupt and those responsible for grave crimes accountable before the law. The second is to ensure that nothing is done which could diminish public confidence in the independence and impartiality of the judiciary that is entrusted with carrying out that responsibility. The strength of the present accountability process lies in the confidence it has generated among the public that investigations, prosecutions and judicial decisions are being made according to law as in the convictions that have been secured. Sri Lanka has come a long way from the days when politically sensitive cases rarely reached a successful conclusion. It would be unfortunate if doubts regarding the independence of the judiciary were to overshadow what has otherwise been a significant institutional achievement.

In the face of the concerns expressed by the BASL, opposition political parties and international legal organisations, it would be prudent for the government to widen the discussion on the proposed amendment. If there is a compelling case to increase the retirement age of judges of the superior courts, that case should be placed before the public and parliament and debated openly. Such a constitutional amendment should not rest solely on the government’s parliamentary majority, even if it has the numbers to secure its passage. Simply utilising the numbers that the government on its own to make changes to the constitution will not increase its legitimacy or credibility. Those values will be strengthened if they were preceded by public consultation and supported across party lines in Parliament. Bipartisan political support can be expected from those in the opposition, of whom there are many, who have shown an inclination to practice responsible politics in the national interest.

The people voted not only to change a government but to change a system. They expected those who abused public trust to be held accountable through institutions that commanded public confidence. That expectation is beginning to be fulfilled. It should not be placed at risk by constitutional change that lacks broad public acceptance. If the government believes there is a compelling case to extend the retirement age of the judges of the superior courts, it should first make that case to the people and seek bipartisan support in Parliament with those in the opposition who are also sincere about anti-corruption and good governance. The challenge is to protect the independence of the judiciary while ensuring that no one is above the law. Overcoming this challenge is the surest way to make Sri Lanka’s transition from a culture of impunity to one of accountability a lasting one.

by Jehan Perera