Features
The Milk Powder Formula – making of Anchor
by Sumi Moonesinghe narrated to Savitri Rodrigo
Now began the process of picking up the pieces (after the July 1983 riots). In 1984, Killi transferred the staff from Berec, the battery company, to Jones Overseas. We had already drawn up plans to begin the import and distribution of Anchor Milk Powder from New Zealand. Killi recruited an excellent marketing director from India, Jojo Kanjirath, who was a highly-experienced marketer and advertising whiz-kid from J Walter Thompson, and I recruited Metha Abeygunewardene, a well-trained sales manager from Unilever, to be my Sales Director.
I knew my team was powerful and had sufficient strength to compete against Nespray, which was produced by Nestle, the world’s largest Swiss-based company with very deep pockets, I might add. It was a well-established brand, having been in Sri Lanka for over 100 years and thus gaining not just brand loyalty but becoming a generic household name for powdered milk.
This entire idea was a very bold move. We were taking on the world’s largest dairy company and even the New Zealand Dairy Board heads were sceptical of our plans. I still recall the breakfast meeting I had with the Regional Managing Director of NZDB’s subsidiary in Singapore, Alistair Betts, and Global Marketing Director of NZDB in Wellington. “How are you going to take on Nestle?” they asked me and I could hear doubt in their voices. Never in any of the NZDB markets, had anyone been audacious enough to take Nestle head-on.
Then came the next question. “Where do you plan on packing the milk powder?” I had my answer at the ready, having anticipated their questions. I talked at length and finally convinced them that we could and we would take on Nespray. “Here’s my plan,” I said and laid it out on the table. By the end of that meeting, I had their fullest support. That breakfast meeting was the start of the Anchor journey in Sri Lanka and Alistair Betts betting on Sri Lanka.
When I met Alistair initially, I was struck not just by his enthusiasm and personality, but by his work ethic, talent and dynamism. He was always attuned to what was going on and willing to change with the times and it was undoubtedly these traits that saw him spearhead the expansion of NZDB’s markets in South-East Asia. I was saddened by his death in 2005 and it was fitting that he was honoured posthumously in the Queen’s New Year honours list, becoming a companion of the Queen’s Service Order.
In an appreciation written by the Chairman of NZDB Sir Dryden Spring when Alistair passed away, Sir Dryden called him a legend and the face of NZDB, and “the first to crack those (South-East Asian) markets and get New Zealand dairy industry brands into Sri Lanka, Malaysia and Taiwan. Many of those brands are still the strongest we have today.”
I negotiated with the Bank of Ceylon for a line of credit to meet our working capital requirements. We then set up a packing plant in an abandoned garment factory in Ratmalana, on the outskirts of Colombo city, owned by Killi’s dear friend Nari Sabnani. While the hardware was being established aligned with our plan, our biggest challenge emerged with the sales agents. Nespray remained No 1 in their minds, and persuading them to place even just 10 packs of Anchor on the shelves was an uphill task. They were fearful of losing the Nespray distribution rights, which was technically their bread and butter. They didn’t want to put their businesses on the line for this newcomer that no one had heard of.
But we had a trump card —our strong marketing team, picked from the best among the best. We rounded up that expert marketing knowledge and began to pull rabbits out of the hat. Our marketing strategies proved to be the winner. Our brand hyped the concept of Anchor Milk Powder being from New Zealand — the fact that the milk was imported was our first scoring point because the Sri Lankan mindset of ‘imported goods being superior’ was yet a strong thread.
Our packaging and marketing collateral evoked the clean pure air of New Zealand with cows grazing on green grass on pristine plains, adding the innuendo that the cows did not have artificial feed but only consumed natural grass. This subtle canvas was our second scoring point. Our third was reiterating that mothers trusted Anchor because Anchor was pure wholesome milk powder.
And we had more! The mother we espoused needed to have a face. We picked Rosy Senanayake as the face of Anchor. She was a young mother who, before getting married, had represented Sri Lanka at beauty pageants. She had just the right blend of beauty and that young motherly disposition which fitted in well with the pristinely pure marketing strategy we were portraying. In hindsight, Rosy was a great pick as she continued to be associated with Anchor throughout her career, even after she won the Mrs. World title.
Our strategies worked and our sales began growing exponentially. In just 12 years, my very dedicated team, whom I liked to call my Anchor A Team (named after the famous TV series, the A-Team) and were truly like my family, had gained more than 70% market share. Beating the world’s No. 1 food corporation into second place was one of the biggest highlights of my business career.
I could never have done all this without Maha and Killi, and of course Susil, who was always there with a strong shoulder to cry on after major arguments with principals and suppliers. While Killi and Maha were always positioned together as the brothers running the Maharaja Group, they were diametrically opposing personalities. I knew Killi from our days in Singapore when he would visit us, but my first meeting with Maha was in their office at Bankshall Street, when I had been appointed Managing Director of the newly incorporated Jones Overseas Limited.
Maha, the older of the two, possessed a calm and collected personality, while Killi was very visionary, daring, outgoing and equipped with the courage to be different. But they got on extremely well, sharing company responsibilities with Killi’s personality fitting in well to travel the world to rally business for the company and Maha, managing the finances and controlling expenses.
Now that we had beaten Nespray and we were well entrenched in the milk powder market, it was time for another challenge. I wanted to tackle the milk tea segment, which was dominated by Lakspray, a cheaper product with only 26% fat. NZDB refused to supply us an equivalent to Lakspray as their thought process was that it would affect Anchor’s positioning. But on the ground, we were very aware of the market sentiment and so I arranged a meeting with the Directors of the UK Milk Marketing Board at the Savoy in London. My friend Baba Vairasinghe, who was the local agent for the UK Milk Marketing Board, arranged the meeting and accompanied me to it.
Some tough negotiations later, I left London with a signed contract for the supply of milk powder and payment arranged via a Letter of Credit. Not long after, two container loads of milk powder from the UK Milk Marketing Board arrived in Colombo – one went to Lanka Milk Foods, the producers of Lakspray, and the other to Jones Overseas for our new brand. This was a tough call for me and in fact, put to test the relationship and trust that had been built with NZDB. I knew Anchor was strong and the new brand didn’t pose any competition to Anchor. Eventually I was proved right and that little smudge in our relationship was obliterated.
My very able marketing team, headed by Shehara de Silva who created the brand name Ratthi, which in the Sinhala language means calf, was working overtime literally to make sure we continued our winning streak. We went into the market with a real clarion call and Ratthi didn’t disappoint. The calf was on a winning streak.
But our victories were not without some pain. It goes without saying that the world of business is one of ups and downs, but the challenge we faced in 1986 felt like an abyss and I was falling right into it. It was alleged that I was responsible for a consignment of contaminated weevil-infested full cream milk powder, which had been shipped to a semi-government entity under the Ministry of Trade, from the New Zealand Dairy Board.
The story made headlines in major newspapers with my name splashed across the front pages, even though I was only an indenting agent. I was devastated as I had nothing to do with it. This entity then sent a Letter of Demand for USD 1 million to NZDB and blacklisted the world’s largest exporter of dairy products, from supplying to Sri Lanka. The entire episode was impacting my company’s business very badly.
With the situation in dire straits, NZDB sent a technical team to Sri Lanka for an investigation. It was finally confirmed that this consignment of milk powder had been unloaded into a go-down which previously held rice. The importer had not fumigated the go-down prior to the milk powder being unloaded into it. The technical team then spent months sorting out our bags of milk powder. Even with these findings, the ban remained and our business reputation was suffering badly.
Finally, I couldn’t take the stress anymore and decided to meet my friend Lalith Athulathmudali who was the Minister of Trade. The best time to meet Lalith was when he was at breakfast because we could sit and chat undisturbed. I dealt a lot with him as Minister of Trade, due to the nature of my business. I told him what had happened, the findings of the technical team, and asked him to intervene in lifting the blacklist as the fault was not ours. It had already been proven that we had nothing to do with the unclean go-down.
“I can’t deal with this man,” I told Lalith exasperated, referring to the head of the semi-government entity, and not without a touch of anger. Lalith took one look at me, smiled and said, “Sumi, there’s no man you can’t deal with!” but assured me that he will sort things out, which he did. Looking back, this has been a pattern in my life. Just when I seem to be thrown into challenges that have taken me to the end of my tether sometimes, I seem to find the right person to pull me away from the edge of that precipice.
When it came to the intricacies of business, I was fundamentally self-taught. I had been thrown into the deep end and learned the ropes of commerce and industry on the run, but inherent wisdom told me that some professional value addition in business management would be helpful if I was to conquer the heights I had set for the company. In 1988, I had taken a short course in portfolio management and financial analysis in Geneva. This was a very exciting trip for me as Susil and I had travelled many times to Switzerland and revisiting some of the sites he and I went to, like Mont Blanc and the Matterhorn, gave me much joy. My fellow students and I would study during the week, and on weekends, put our studies aside and take a break doing these tourist runs.
In my quest for upskilling my business acumen, in 1992, I attended a course for chief executives at Wharton Business School at the University of Pennsylvania. This was a great opportunity for me to benchmark my knowledge and business skills with the other course attendees who turned out to be a Who’s Who of global business. I remember the CEOs of ASEA Brown Boveri (ABB) – a Swedish-Swiss MNC, Hewlett-Packard, Procter & Gamble, and ATT being among the participants. Besides learning from an honour roll of erudite economists and financial gurus from the USA, one of the biggest advantages I gained at Wharton was being taught speed reading.
With all the success our milk powder business was having, it was time for us to expand to a new office and factory complex. We obtained a loan of Rs. 600 million from BOC (for the construction of a state-of-the-art milk packing plant, liquid milk processing plant and an office complex. The entire complex was in Biyagama and was designed by Architect Navin Gooneratne. The complex was constructed by Mitsui and Sanken Lanka, which was headed by Ranjith Gunathilake. It housed some of the best dairy processing equipment imported from Holland, Denmark and Germany.
I was completely involved in the project from its very genesis. Both Navin and Ranjith were used to me poring over the designs and asking hundreds of questions, so I could visualise what the end-complex would be like. I knew the measurement of every wall, every angle and every area. I would make frequent visits to the site to keep tabs on progress except when I went on a six-week holiday to Europe with Susil, Anarkali and Aushi. When I returned, my first stop was in Biyagama.
As I drove in I was horrified. There were 16 giant concrete columns running the entire height of the facade of this five storey tall building. I knew this was not a design feature I had approved and immediately called Navin. “What are these monstrous columns doing in the front of my building?” I asked. “I want to make this a green building,” explained Navin patiently. “Those concrete columns are pergolas where plants can be grown. No one will see the concrete building as a result, only green, which will be very pleasing.”
However, I was not pleased. I turned to Ranjith who was privy to this conversation and asked him to remove the 16 columns immediately. “I don’t want to see even a trace of it. You’ll have to saw it off from ground level,” I told him. Ranjith was appalled and Navin was upset. Both tried to talk me out of it but to no avail. I had made up my mind.
The 16 columns disappeared, I was happy and Navin named himself the draftsman of the complex and me, the architect. The rest of the construction period was uneventful and went according to plan.
As Managing Director of Jones Overseas, I had the task of making a speech at the inauguration of the complex. In my address, I said, “I am 51 years old and have worked in this company now for over two decades. The time has come for me to hand over the reins of Managing Director to a younger person.”
No one expected this announcement but in my heart, I knew it was time. We were doing exceptionally well and judging by Sri Lanka’s corporate results, we were only second to Ceylon Tobacco Company in turnover. It’s always good to quit, while at the top!
After the ceremony, while we were returning from Biyagama, the Managing Director of NZDB Warren Larsen who listened to my speech at the inauguration asked me, “Sumi, are you willing to sell the business?” I didn’t think twice and quipped, “If the price is right, we will, but the final decision lies with Killi.”
Warren was determined to pursue the conversation. I had apprised Killi of the inquiry and when Killi hosted the NZDB team to lunch at his home, the subject of the sale of the company came up for discussion. Killi, who was always astute when it came to business deals, gave Warren the sale price based on future earnings. Then began a spate of lengthy negotiations with the finance director of the Maharaja Group entrusted with the task of number crunching. An agreement was reached.
The sale was completed in September 1996 and the same year in December, I resigned as Managing Director. And that was how we sold Jones Overseas to the New Zealand Dairy Board. With the sale of the company, I was considerably ‘well off’ as they say in Sri Lanka, having made sufficient money to enjoy life without running the rat race I had been used to for so long. I looked inwards and said to myself, “It is time to retire, spend time with our girls and travel the world.” And that is exactly what I did.
But I did keep abreast of news of my milk powder baby and was very happy when I learned eventually that Ratthi had got into the No. 1 position in the milk powder market, beating even Anchor, although a little part of me was sad that Anchor had lost that premier spot which we had built quite painstakingly.
However, while everything was looking good at this moment, during the time of the construction of new factory and office complex, I suffered a setback in my health.
I had become very stressed at work with this construction, travelling to Biyagama and back nearly every day, while ensuring our daily operations were on track, and helping Susil with his political affairs as he was now Chief Minister of the Western Province. The pressure was taking its toll on me.
I had a nagging pain in my spine which became quite debilitating. I consulted Prof. Henry Nanayakkara who referred me to Dr. Wijenaike. I was immediately hospitalised at Nawaloka Hospital and an ECG plus a plethora of other tests done.
Every test result came back negative but the debilitating pain persisted. I then flew to London and got myself admitted to Cromwell Hospital. A battery of tests later, every result was negative once again. There was nothing physically wrong with me. However, the doctor at Cromwell Hospital went a step further and referred me to a psychiatrist. A few sessions later, I was told that the pain was induced by stress. I was on the verge of a breakdown.
Killi was continually in touch with me and when I told him the diagnosis, he read the gravity of the situation and checked me into the Givenchy Spa at Trianon Palace Hotel in Versailles. I was placed on a special diet, received daily treatments with injections to my neck, had an exercise regime, revelled in massages and cycled in the evenings on the luscious 250-acre gardens. It was a total ten days of complete R&R and absolute bliss. One of the rules though was having no contact with the outside world, not even with family. The treatment, which I found out later that Killi had paid for in its entirety, worked.
Through these ten days, Susil was tasked with looking after Anarkali and Aushi. They went off on holiday to Yala with our lifelong friend Navin Gooneratne and his family. Ten days later, I returned to Sri Lanka – with no back pain – refreshed, rejuvenated and having regained my strength. I was ready to complete one of the biggest projects I had taken on – the construction of the new factory and office complex.
Just like everything in my life, I needed to be in control, even when it came to my illness. Through my bouts in hospitals, tests and spa treatment, I would absorb the details of the medical information by listening to doctors, scouring the reports and conducting my own extensive research. Susil himself had various medical issues – from cardiac, to cataract to kidney stones to septicaemia and everything else in-between, and I learned early on that I needed to be as well informed as the medical professionals, to be able to ask the relevant questions. Now I had added to my medical information arsenal and was becoming quite adept at dishing out medical advice, acquiring the title of having an honorary MBBS!
While this was generally a subject that prompted some mirth at dinner conversations, the arsenal I had collated did come in handy. When Anarkali developed a spine ache similar to mine while she was at Merrill Lynch, I knew exactly what to do. Her job was stressful, had long hours and gave her no free time. I organised a treatment regimen for her, similar to what I had at the Givenchy Spa, but at her apartment at Kensington Green, which was a gated community and close to Cromwell Hospital. Ten days later, Anarkali’s back pain disappeared and she was free from pain.
(Extracted from Sumi Moonesinghe’s Memoirs)
Features
Power crept into the Sangha and is now tearing it apart
For more than a century, Sri Lankan society has lived with a quiet contradiction at the heart of its religious life. On the one hand, the Buddhist monk is revered as the embodiment of moral discipline, selfrestraint, and renunciation. On the other, the modern monk has become a public figure, political actor, administrator, media personality, and in some cases power broker whose influence extends far beyond the temple. This contradiction has been tolerated, even celebrated, for decades. But recent events, most notably a widely publicised case involving a senior monk accused of grave moral misconduct, have forced the country to confront a painful truth: the institutional conditions that make such scandals possible are not new. They are the predictable outcome of a long historical process that H. L. Seneviratne described with remarkable clarity in The Work of Kings. The moral deterioration visible today is not an aberration. It is the culmination of a centurylong transformation in the identity, function, and authority of the Sangha.
To understand how we arrived at this moment, it is necessary to revisit the argument Seneviratne made nearly three decades ago. His thesis was simple but profound: the modern Sri Lankan monkhood has taken on the ‘work of kings.’ By this he meant that monks, instead of confining themselves to the renunciant life prescribed by the Vinaya, have assumed the secular responsibilities once associated with precolonial kingship, such as protecting the religion, organising society, guiding the nation, and enforcing moral order. This shift, he argued, was not a natural evolution of Buddhist tradition but a modern invention shaped by colonialism, nationalism, and the anxieties of a society struggling to redefine itself in the face of foreign domination. The monk became a symbol of national identity, a guardian of cultural authenticity, and a leader in the struggle for political autonomy. In the process, the boundaries that once separated the monastic from the worldly began to dissolve.
Transformation
The consequences of this transformation were not immediately visible. For decades, the activist monk was celebrated as a patriot, a reformer, and a moral guide. His involvement in education, social welfare, and nationalist mobilisation was seen as a necessary response to colonial pressures and missionary competition. But beneath the surface, the foundations of monastic discipline were slowly eroding. The Vinaya, which had served for centuries as a rigorous framework for regulating monastic life, was increasingly overshadowed by the demands of public engagement. The communal structures that once ensured accountability, senior supervision, collective confession, and the daily rhythms of monastic routine, were weakened by the pressures of modernity. Monks who travelled constantly, managed institutions, or lived independently in urban temples found themselves outside the traditional systems of oversight that had long protected the integrity of the Sangha.
Scandal
It is within this historical context that the recent scandal must be understood. The case shocked the nation not only because of the severity of the allegations but because it shattered the public’s assumption that the monkhood remains a bastion of moral purity. Yet the shock itself reveals a collective denial. For years, Sri Lankan society has been aware, sometimes quietly, sometimes openly—of the growing gap between the ideal of the monk and the realities of modern monastic life. Stories of misconduct, financial irregularities, political manipulation, and abuse of authority have circulated with increasing frequency. But each incident has been treated as an isolated failure, a personal weakness, or an unfortunate exception. What has been missing is recognition that these incidents are symptoms of a deeper structural problem.
Seneviratne’s analysis helps illuminate this problem. When monks take on the work of kings, they inevitably enter domains of power that expose them to temptations the Vinaya was designed to avoid. Handling money, managing institutions, cultivating political patrons, and exercising authority over laypeople create opportunities for ego, ambition, and moral compromise. The monk who becomes a public figure is no longer shielded by the anonymity and humility of the renunciant life. Instead, he becomes a celebrity, a leader, and in some cases an object of uncritical devotion. This elevation brings with it a dangerous form of immunity. Laypeople who revere a monk for his public achievements may hesitate to question his behaviour. Politicians who rely on monastic support may protect him from scrutiny. The media, which often treats monks as moral authorities, may be reluctant to investigate allegations that challenge the sanctity of the robe.
The recent scandal illustrates how these dynamics can converge. The monk at the centre of the case was not an obscure figure. He was a respected preacher, charismatic leader, and head of a prominent institution. His public image was built on years of service, teaching, and community engagement. Yet it was precisely this public stature that allowed him to operate without meaningful oversight. The institutional structures around him, administrators, lay supporters, and junior monks, were either unwilling or unable to challenge his authority. The very qualities that made him a respected figure in the eyes of the public also made him untouchable within his own institution. When allegations finally emerged, they revealed not only personal wrongdoing but a systemic failure of accountability.
Failure that is not unique
This failure is not unique to one temple or one monk. It reflects a broader pattern within the modern Sangha. As monastic institutions have grown in size, wealth, and influence, their internal governance has struggled to keep pace. Many temples operate as semiautonomous entities controlled by a single monk or a small group of monks. Financial transparency is limited, administrative oversight is weak, and the mechanisms for addressing misconduct are often informal or ineffective. The traditional structures of monastic discipline, such as the Sangharama procedures for adjudicating offences, are rarely used in modern contexts, partly because they require collective participation and partly because they are illsuited to the complexities of contemporary institutional life. In practice, this means that monks who wield significant authority can act with little fear of internal sanction.
The politicisation of the Sangha has further complicated matters. Since the midtwentieth century, monks have played an increasingly prominent role in electoral politics, nationalist movements, and public policy debates. This involvement has given them access to political networks that can be mobilised to protect their interests. It has also created a culture in which monks are valued not for their adherence to the Vinaya but for their ability to influence public opinion, mobilise voters, or lend moral legitimacy to political causes. In such an environment, the monk who is politically useful may be shielded from criticism, while the monk who adheres strictly to the renunciant ideal may find himself marginalised or ignored.
The result is a profound distortion of monastic identity. The monk who once sought liberation from worldly attachments is now encouraged to cultivate influence, authority, and public recognition. The monk who once lived under the strict supervision of senior elders now operates in a world where independence is celebrated and oversight is minimal. The monk who once relied on laypeople for basic sustenance now controls vast resources, manages institutions, and commands the loyalty of thousands of followers. This inversion of traditional roles has created a fertile ground for moral deterioration.
Yet it would be a mistake to interpret this deterioration as evidence that the Sangha as a whole is corrupt. Many monks continue to live lives of remarkable discipline, humility, and spiritual dedication. In remote forest monasteries, small village temples, and meditation centres across the country, monks quietly uphold the ancient ideals of the renunciant life. They are not the ones who appear on television, lead political rallies, or manage large institutions. Their work is invisible, their influence subtle, and their commitment unwavering. The crisis facing the Sangha today is not a crisis of individual morality but a crisis of institutional identity. It is the product of a centurylong transformation that has blurred the boundaries between the monastic and the secular, the spiritual and the political, the renunciant and the worldly.
If Sri Lanka is to address this crisis, it must begin by acknowledging the structural nature of the problem. The temptation to treat each scandal as an isolated incident must be resisted. Instead, the country must confront the uncomfortable reality that the modern configuration of monastic life is fundamentally at odds with the principles of the Vinaya. The Sangha cannot simultaneously function as a political force, a social service provider, a media institution, and a spiritual community without compromising its integrity. The more monks are drawn into the world, the more vulnerable they become to the moral dangers that the Buddha warned against.
Reform, therefore, must focus not only on punishing individual offenders but on rethinking the institutional structures that enable misconduct. This includes strengthening internal governance, enhancing financial transparency, restoring the authority of senior elders, and reestablishing the communal practices that once ensured accountability. It also requires a broader cultural shift in how laypeople relate to monks. Blind devotion must give way to informed respect. Reverence must be balanced with responsibility. The robe must be honoured, but it must not be used as a shield against scrutiny.
Seneviratne’s work offers a valuable starting point for this rethinking. His analysis reminds us that the crisis facing the Sangha is not the result of moral decline alone but of historical forces that reshaped the identity of the monkhood. By tracing the evolution of the activist monk, he shows how the Sangha became entangled in the political and social structures of the modern nationstate. This entanglement has brought both benefits and dangers. It has allowed monks to play important roles in education, social welfare, and national development. But it has also exposed them to the corrupting influences of power, wealth, and public acclaim.
The challenge now is to disentangle the Sangha from these influences without undermining its ability to serve society. This will not be easy. The activist monk has become deeply embedded in the cultural and political fabric of the country. Many laypeople expect monks to be leaders, reformers, and guardians of national identity. Politicians rely on monastic support to legitimise their agendas. Media institutions depend on monks for content, commentary, and moral authority. Reversing this trend will require a collective effort from monks, laypeople, and political leaders alike.
Ultimately, the future of the Sangha depends on its ability to reclaim the renunciant ideal that lies at the heart of Buddhist monasticism. This does not mean withdrawing from society entirely, but it does mean reestablishing the boundaries that protect the monk from the dangers of worldly involvement. It means recognising that the true strength of the Sangha lies not in its political influence or institutional power but in its moral authority, its spiritual discipline, and its commitment to the path of liberation. The recent scandal, painful as it is, may serve as a catalyst for this reevaluation. It has exposed the vulnerabilities of the modern monastic system and forced the country to confront the consequences of a centurylong transformation.
To understand how the Vihara Devalegam Act relates to the perceived moral deformation of the clergy, it is necessary to examine how property management, state law, and monastic discipline intersect in the modern era. Historically stemming from the Buddhist Temporalities Ordinance No. 19 of 1931, this act serves as the primary legal framework governing the ‘temporalities’—meaning the secular wealth, extensive landholdings, and material donations belonging to Buddhist temples and shrines. While ancient kings granted these vast tracts of land to support the monkhood’s spiritual pursuits, the modern codification of this law has inadvertently fostered a system where property rights frequently supersede spiritual accountability.
The core of the crisis lies in the commercialisation of the monastic order that this legal framework enables. By treating temple lands as economic assets and vesting absolute administrative power in individual chief monks or lay trustees, the act has contributed to the rise of what critics term a monastic middle class. Access to vast, unregulated financial resources, rent from lands, and corporate donations has fundamentally shifted the focus of certain segments of the clergy away from the traditional path of worldly renunciation and spiritual guidance. Instead, it has driven a preoccupation with business investments, the accumulation of private capital, and luxury lifestyles, which deeply alienates a public looking to the Sangha for moral leadership.
The institutional flaws embedded in the Vihara Devalegam Act find a stark, real-world manifestation in the recent criminal case involving Venerable Pallegama Hemarathana Thero. As the chief priest of Anuradhapura and the custodian of the Atamasthana—the eight highly venerated Buddhist shrines, including the sacred Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi—Hemarathana Thero occupied one of the most powerful and wealthy positions within the Sri Lankan Sangha. His arrest on charges of sexual abuse of a minor girl perfectly illustrates how the structural defects of the Act facilitate not only moral decay but also the systemic obstruction of justice.
The core of this intersection lies in the vast, unaccountable wealth generated by the temporalities of the Anuradhapura shrines. Under the Vihara Devalegam Act, the chief custodian exercises immense, virtually unchecked control over temple revenues, state-backed land management, and millions of rupees in daily donations from millions of global pilgrims. It is precisely this immense financial liquidity that enabled the alleged deployment of vast sums of money to the victim’s family.
Furthermore, the situation underscores the profound policy failures cited regarding the helplessness of the monastic hierarchy and state enforcement. When child protection authorities initially attempted to act, the National Child Protection Authority noted severe delays and institutional resistance, stating they practically had to force the police to execute the arrest. The monk’s immediate retreat to a private hospital in Colombo upon the advancement of the criminal probe, followed by his release on bail, mirrors the exact loop described where wealthy monastics deploy high-priced legal defence teams funded directly or indirectly by their institutional positions. Because the Vihara Devalegam Act does not provide a mechanism for the immediate, unconditional forfeiture of temporal administrative rights upon a criminal indictment, the accused retains his structural power throughout the legal process. The Pallegama Thero scandal stands as definitive proof that without a fundamental overhaul of how temple wealth is legally governed and disciplined, the material benefits guaranteed by ancient temporalities will continue to shield the worst elements of moral deformation from the rule of law.
If Sri Lanka can learn from this moment and if it can recognise the structural roots of the crisis and commit to meaningful reform, then the Sangha may yet emerge stronger, more disciplined, and more faithful to its ancient ideals. But if the country continues to treat each scandal as an isolated failure and if it continues to ignore the deeper institutional problems that Seneviratne identified, then the moral deterioration we see today will only deepen. The work of kings, when performed by monks, carries a heavy price. It is time to decide whether that price is worth paying.
by Professor Amarasiri de Silva
Features
Kondachchi wind farm and battery storage project to boost energy security, says Power Ministry Secretary
The Power and Energy Ministry’s drive towards energy security and renewable energy expansion received a major boost yesterday with the signing of a tripartite cooperation agreement for the development of the 150 MW Kondachchi Wind Power Project and an integrated Battery Energy Storage System (BESS) in Mannar.
The agreement was signed at the Ministry of Power auditorium under the patronage of Power Minister Anura Karunatilaka and Deputy Power Minister Arkam Ilyas.
Speaking at the event, Ministry Secretary G. M. R. D. Aponsu described the project as a transformative investment that would strengthen the country’s electricity network while supporting Sri Lanka’s transition towards cleaner energy sources.
“The Kondachchi Wind Power Project represents a significant milestone in Sri Lanka’s renewable energy journey. By combining large-scale wind generation with advanced battery energy storage technology, we are creating a more resilient and reliable power system capable of meeting future energy demands while reducing dependence on imported fossil fuels,” Aponsu said.
The project will be developed at Silavathurai in the Kondachchi area of Mannar on lands owned by the Sri Lanka Cashew Corporation. It is expected to utilise some 31 modern wind turbines with a total installed capacity of at least 150 MW.
Aponsu said the inclusion of an integrated battery storage facility would help address the variability associated with wind power generation and ensure stable electricity supply to the national grid.
“The battery energy storage component is a key feature of this project. It will enable the efficient integration of renewable energy into the grid and enhance overall system stability, which is essential as Sri Lanka increases the share of renewables in its energy mix,” he said.
According to the Ministry, the wind farm is expected to generate nearly 525 gigawatt-hours of electricity annually, significantly reducing the country’s expenditure on imported fuel and strengthening national energy security.
The project is also expected to contribute to Sri Lanka’s climate commitments by reducing carbon dioxide emissions by an estimated 372,750 tonnes annually.
“This investment delivers both economic and environmental benefits. It will reduce greenhouse gas emissions, support sustainable development objectives and help Sri Lanka move closer to achieving its renewable energy and climate targets,” Aponsu noted.
The project will be implemented under a Public-Private Partnership (PPP) arrangement using the Build, Own and Operate (BOO) model. The Asian Development Bank is providing technical and financial advisory support through its Transaction Advisory Services programme.
The signing ceremony was attended by Pradeep Perera, Chairman of the National System Operator (Pvt) Ltd., and Takeyo Koike, Head of Market Development and Public-Private Partnership Division of the ADB, among other distinguished guests.
The Ministry said comprehensive Environmental Impact Assessments and avifaunal studies have been undertaken to ensure minimal impacts on bird populations, nearby communities and agricultural lands. A dedicated 220-kilovolt transmission system will also be constructed to connect the project to the national grid.
“The Kondachchi Wind Farm is a strategic national project that will help secure Sri Lanka’s energy future while accelerating the country’s transition towards sustainable and affordable electricity generation,” Aponsu said.
Energy sector experts view the project as one of the most important renewable energy initiatives currently being pursued in Sri Lanka, combining utility-scale wind generation with modern energy storage technology to enhance grid reliability and long-term energy sustainability.
By Ifham Nizam
Features
Saudi Arabia sets new benchmark in Hajj management as 1.7 million pilgrims complete sacred journey
Interview with Khalid Hamoud Al-Kahtani, Ambassador of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia to Sri Lanka
Saudi Arabia has once again demonstrated its unparalleled capacity to manage one of the world’s largest annual religious gatherings, with this year’s Hajj pilgrimage concluding successfully despite extreme temperatures and the immense logistical challenge of accommodating more than 1.7 million pilgrims from around the world.
In an exclusive interview with The Island, Khalid Hamoud Al-Kahtani, Ambassador of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia to Sri Lanka, described the 2026 Hajj season as a resounding success, crediting the achievement to the visionary leadership of the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince and Prime Minister, and the coordinated efforts of multiple government agencies working around the clock to serve pilgrims.
The Ambassador noted that nearly 3,500 Sri Lankan pilgrims participated in this year’s Hajj under the quota allocated to Sri Lanka, benefiting from enhanced healthcare services, sophisticated crowd-management systems, expanded shaded areas and cutting-edge digital solutions introduced by the Kingdom.
With Saudi Arabia continuing to invest heavily in infrastructure, technology and pilgrim services under Vision 2030, Ambassador Al-Kahtani said the Kingdom remains committed to ensuring that pilgrims from around the world perform their religious duties in safety, comfort and tranquility.
The Saudi envoy also highlighted the growing partnership between Saudi Arabia and Sri Lanka, emphasising expanding cooperation not only in Hajj affairs but also in trade, investment, education, culture and institutional exchanges.
Following are excerpts of the interview:
Q: How do you assess this year’s Hajj season?
Ambassador Al-Kahtani: This year’s Hajj season was a resounding success, thanks to the Almighty Allah and the integrated efforts of the government of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, led by the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques and His Royal Highness the Crown Prince and Prime Minister. This success was reflected in the efficiency of crowd management, the quality of services provided to the Hajj pilgrims and the effective coordination among the various relevant authorities, which enabled pilgrims to perform their rituals in an atmosphere of security, tranquility and ease.
Q: How many Sri Lankan pilgrims performed Hajj this year?
Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The number of Hajj pilgrims from the Democratic Socialist Republic of Sri Lanka reached approximately 3,500, within the quota allocated to Sri Lanka for this season.
Q: Are there any discussions regarding increasing Sri Lanka’s quota in the future?
Ambassador Al-Kahtani:Hajj quotas are determined according to approved regulatory mechanisms that take into account a range of considerations. The relevant authorities in the Kingdom continue to study various aspects related to developing Hajj services and accommodating the allocated numbers for all countries, in coordination with the concerned parties.
Q: What were the most prominent special arrangements implemented this year?
Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The operational plans for this season focused on enhancing the safety and comfort of the Hajj pilgrims, especially given the climatic conditions and high temperatures. Measures included expanding shaded areas, increasing water distribution points and enhancing health and ambulance services, in addition to developing the transportation system and traffic management within the holy sites.
Q: What are the most prominent digital systems and smart services that were provided?
Ambassador Al-Kahtani:The Kingdom continues to implement its digital transformation objectives for the Hajj and Umrah system. The scope of electronic services offered through the Nusuk platform and application has been expanded, along with the development of digital systems for issuing permits, managing crowds, guidance and health services. This contributes to increasing the efficiency of services and improving the pilgrim’s experience at all stages of their journey.
Q: How were the challenges of overcrowding and heat addressed?
Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The relevant authorities adopted an integrated crowd-management system based on modern technologies and real-time data analysis. This was coupled with intensified health-awareness campaigns, expanded organised movement routes and increased deployment of field, medical and emergency teams. These measures support the safety of the Hajj pilgrims and reduce the risks associated with crowd density and climatic conditions.
Q: Were there special services for the elderly and sick?
Ambassador Al-Kahtani: Yes. The Kingdom paid special attention to the elderly and people with special health needs by providing specialized medical services, assistive transportation and facilities equipped to meet their needs, in addition to field teams working to provide humanitarian support and necessary healthcare throughout the Hajj period.
Q: How successful was the Kingdom in combating irregular Hajj permits?
Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The relevant authorities in the Kingdom continued to rigorously implement the regulations and instructions governing Hajj, utilising modern technologies and advanced monitoring procedures to reduce violations related to irregular Hajj. These efforts contributed to enhancing the safety of pilgrims, improving crowd-management efficiency and maintaining the smooth flow of movement within the holy sites.
Q: How would you describe Saudi-Sri Lankan cooperation in organising Hajj?
Ambassador Al-Kahtani: Cooperation between the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and the Republic of Sri Lanka is characterised by continuous and constructive coordination in all matters related to Hajj. The relevant authorities in both countries work jointly to ensure the provision of the best services for Sri Lankan pilgrims and enable them to perform their rituals with ease and peace of mind.
Q: How many Hajj pilgrims were there globally, and what were the main challenges?
Ambassador Al-Kahtani: According to official statistics, the number of Hajj pilgrims this year reached 1,707,301 from various countries around the world. The main challenges included managing large crowds, ensuring public safety and providing health, transportation and accommodation services within a specific geographical and temporal scope. These challenges were addressed through advanced and integrated operational plans, which contributed to the smooth and successful completion of the Hajj season.
Q: Are there any future expansion projects?
Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The Kingdom continues to implement strategic development projects within the framework of Vision 2030, including developing the infrastructure in Makkah and the Holy Sites, and enhancing transportation networks and smart services. This contributes to raising the quality of services provided to pilgrims and Umrah performers and improving their long-term experience.
Q: How are Saudi-Sri Lankan relations strengthened outside the context of Hajj?
Ambassador Al-Kahtani: Relations between the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and the Republic of Sri Lanka are witnessing continuous development in many areas, including political, economic, trade, cultural and educational cooperation, in addition to developing exchanges between institutions and the private sector. This reflects the two countries’ keenness to strengthen the bilateral partnership and achieve common interests.
Q: What message would you like to convey to Sri Lankan Muslims?
Ambassador Al-Kahtani: We extend our sincere congratulations to the Hajj pilgrims who have completed their Hajj rituals, and we ask Almighty Allah to accept their pilgrimage. We also assure Muslims in Sri Lanka that the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia places serving the Two Holy Mosques and the guests of Almighty Allah at the forefront of its priorities and continues to develop the Hajj and Umrah system to achieve the highest standards of quality and safety.
By Ifham Nizam
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