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UNCHANGING HAMBANTOTA

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Man with buffalo

CHAPTER 1

I came from a humble family and did not have any privileges of class or

caste. I only had a great longing to study, and believed, even as a child,

that education would open up vistas of greatness for me. As I grew older

I had no desire to stagnate in a village that had few opportunities for the

young to realize their dreams. Each of us when we are young, whatever

our social and economic status, have visions of achieving greatness and

leaving behind a mark for posterity.

(N.U. Jayawardena, interview with Manel Abhayaratne)

The Family

Ubesinghe Jayawardenage Nonis, later Neville Ubesinghe (NU) Jayawardena (1908-2002), was born on 25 February 1908 in Hambantota. His father, Ubesinghe Jayawardenage Diyonis was born in Tangalle, in the Hambantota district, in 1879, and his mother, Gajawirage Podinona (known as ‘Nona Akka’), born in 1887, was from Devundara (Dondra) in the neighbouring Matara district. They were both Buddhists of the Durava caste. Of their 11 children, a daughter died in infancy and two sons died from illness in childhood – a not uncommon feature at that time.

NU’s parents already had two daughters, Charlotte and Rosalind, when the eldest son NU was born. In a society where a male child was much desired, NU’s birth was welcomed and celebrated. As was customary, his horoscope was cast. His maternal grandfather carefully read it, and gave it to NU’s father with the request that he should not show it to anyone. When asked whether there was bad news in it, the grandfather had assured his son-in-law that there was no such thing, but that he should keep it carefully for reference at some future date (de Zoysa manuscript, p.37).

As the eldest son, NU held a privileged position, and much care and attention were lavished on him by parents, grandparents and elder sisters. The latter referred to him as budu malli – a term of great affection. Subsequently, there were two more surviving sons, David and Peter. In addition to the two elder girls, three more daughters were born to the family – Wimala, Sita and Hilda.

Hunting party

NU’s life in rural Hambantota is reflected in the nutritious food he ate – namely, buffalo milk, curd and kurakkan pittu – and the comments he made about his early childhood: I was the third in the family and the eldest among the boys. My parents were very concerned and affectionate towards me. The first memorable event I recall is how my parents, particularly my mother, looked after me. She would give me every morning a glass of hot buffalo milk and never failed to send me a glass of warm buffalo milk to school during our tea break. (Carol Aloysius, 2000)

He recalls that he crouched near a wall to drink the milk unseen, so that other students would not tease him. NU frequently claimed in later life that, perhaps, it was this glass of milk and buffalo curd that contributed to his robust health and longevity (ibid).

Hambantota in Colonial Times

In the Southern Province of Sri Lanka, the districts of Matara and Galle were relatively prosperous compared to the poverty-stricken Hambantota district. NU was to be linked closely with all three districts of the Southern Province in his youth. The Hambantota district was 1,013 square miles in extent, and in 1911 the population of the district was 110,508, mainly Sinhala, except for the townof Hambantota, which had a large Muslim population – many of Malay origin, dating from the time of Dutch rule in the maritime regions.1 NU’s parents had many Malay friends, as recollected by his sister Rosalind.

The district of Hambantota had three divisions – West Giruvapattu, East Giruvapattu and Magampattu – with a Mudaliyar as well as superior and minor headmen involved in the administration. While the Government Agent (GA) of the Southern Province was stationed in Galle, the Hambantota district was administered by an Assistant Government Agent (AGA) resident in Hambantota.

A Malay man and boy

A few months after NU’s birth in February 1908, Leonard Woolf became AGA of this district, serving there from August 1908 to May 1911. Woolf had joined the civil service in 1906, and on returning to Britain in 1911, he became a Labour Party political activist, anti-imperialist agitator, writer, publisher, and author of The Village in the Jungle, a novel of rural poverty based on his Hambantota experiences.

But he was, perhaps, to achieve most fame as the husband of the novelist Virginia Woolf, whom he married on his return from Sri Lanka. Valuable insights into life in the Hambantota area in that period are given in the second volume of Leonard Woolf ’s autobiography, Growing – which also describes his years in other parts of the country. His Diaries in Ceylon (1908-1911), published in 1962, details his day-to-day activities and observations as a civil servant.

Woolf ’s vivid descriptions of the environment and the climate of Hambantota, not only help set the backdrop to NU’s childhood, but also help us understand what may have propelled him and his family to leave the area. Hambantota was the poorest district in the island at that time, and is currently still one of the least developed. As Saparamadu, in his introduction to Leonard Woolf ’s Diaries, writes: The Hambantota District… was somewhat dissimilar from the other districts of Ceylon. The land was flat and low and the climate particularly in the eastern half of the district was very hot and dry. The rainfall was usually as low as 25 inches a year. As a result of this climate, no settled forms of agriculture were possible except where irrigation facilities were available, and ‘the people generally were among the poorest in the whole island’. (Woolf,1962, p.xxxvi-vii, emphasis added)

Persistent Poverty and Disease

Woolf in his Diaries refers to the “small scattered and usually poverty stricken villages of the area” (ibid, p.175), and to areas where there had been no rainfall for four or five years. The town of Hambantota had the only hospital of the district in 1908, dealing mostly with cases of malaria. Leonard Woolf was concerned with the health of the region and recommended another hospital for Tissamaharama, pointing out that the death rate for the Hambantota district was extremely high – almost double the national rate (ibid, p.5). Woolf writes of the pauperized, almost famine-stricken people of Andarawewa and Beddewewa, whose pathetic plight he portrays movingly in his novel The Village in the Jungle, written on his return to Britain. In his Diaries, he expresses disquiet and solicitude for these village people and records that:

The villages are decimated by malaria. It is an awful sight to see the children. In Beddewewa tank, I saw a child about five… absolute skin and bones, but his belly was about three times the size of the body… I told the uncle that the child would die… he said ‘probably he will die, most of our families here are dying.’ I had the child taken to Hambantota. (ibid, p.215)

The persistent poverty and disease in the Hambantota district were frequently mentioned by Leonard Woolf and clearly concerned him deeply. He referred to a book by J.W. Bennett, a former Assistant Government Agent of Hambantota from 1827 to 1828, who described the severity of the malaria epidemics in the 1820s. This led Woolf to speculate on the better sanitary facilities, hospitals and dispensaries in 1910, but adding that: “it is difficult to account for the difference between Hambantota then and now for the town itself and its immediate surroundings appear to have changed very little” (Woolf, 1962, p.132, emphasis added).

Leonard Woolf with kachcheri staff and ‘native’ officials

The Hambantota district had very poor communications with the outside world; and since the railway line from Colombo did not go beyond Matara, the Hambantota district relied on the sea and road routes. Steamers were run by a private company (under government subsidy) every two weeks, linking Colombo with the ports along the coast, including Batticaloa and Trincomalee. The Colombo-Hambantota journey cost Rs. 5 ( ibid, p.1xxii). As Woolf recalled:

We travelled about our districts on a horse, on a bicycle or on our feet. The pulse of ordinary life was determined by the pace of a bullock cart. There were no motor buses – even the ‘coach’ from Anuradhapura to the Northern Province was… a bullock cart… You could only get to know the villagers… by continually walking among them sitting under a tree or on the bund and listening to their complaints and problems. (ibid, p.1xxix-xx)

Agriculture and Chena Cultivation

Paddy was the main crop of the district and the principal occupation was agriculture – facilitated by major irrigation works linked to the Valave Ganga and Kirinde Oya. As Saparamadu notes: “Paddy production was done according to traditional… methods,” but rinderpest was a problem, which in 1909 “wiped out almost the entire buffalo and cattle population, without which the extensive cultivation of paddy was impracticable” (quoted in Woolf, 1962, p.xxxvii). Where there was no irrigation, villagers resorted to the primitive ‘slash and burn’ (chena) – namely, the practice of burning patches of forest for cultivation. The scourge of malaria also added to the woes of the poverty-stricken villagers. In Twentieth Century Impressions of Ceylon (1907, p.753), the Hambantota district was described as “the least promising and most sparsely populated portion of the Southern Province,” where agriculture took “the pernicious form of chena cultivation,” referred to as “a wasteful system which flourishes in spite of all official efforts todiscourage it.” Woolf noted that the people of East and West Giruvapattu “show no progress”:

Archduke Franz Ferdinand Of Austria Hunting In Ceylon

Fever stricken, fatalists by nature, unable and unwilling to procure any occupation other tha n that which has earned the opprobrium of half a century of officials… fever and emigration has caused the disappearance of some and the reduction of many of these villages. (quoted in Denham, 1912, p.87-88)

Other crops of the region were coconut and citronella, with most of the revenue for the district coming from the production of salt. Major Forbes, of the 78th Highlanders, author of Eleven Years in Ceylon, published in 1840, describes many spectacular panoramic views from the town of Hambantota – of sea, salterns, forests and hills.

Details of the economy and the means of livelihood of the region – based on rice cultivation and salt production – were also described by Forbes: Cattle and buffalo were the people’s most valuable property; the prosperity of the whole district depended upon them. It was almost entirely an agricultural district and rice, the most important crop, was dependent for ploughing and threshing upon cattle and buffaloes. Everywhere the only form of transport was the bullock cart, and in Hambantota town… there were a large number of carters, many of them Mohammedans, who depended for a living upon the transport of salt and so upon their bulls who pulled the carts. (quoted in de Zoysa manuscript)

Leonard Woolf gives us a vivid impression of the Hambantota district in his time:

Twenty miles east of Hambantota was Tissamaharama with a major irrigation work and a resident white Irrigation Engineer. Here was a great stretch of paddy fields irrigated from the tank and a considerable population of cultivators… Magampattu also produced salt. All along the coast eastwards from Hambantota were great lagoons or lewayas. In the dry season between the south-west and the north-east monsoons the salt water in these lewayas evaporates and ‘natural’ salt forms, sometimes over acres of the mud and sand. Salt… was a government monopoly, and it was my duty to arrange for the collecting, transport, storing, and selling of the salt– a large-scale complicated industry. (Woolf, 1961, p.175)

What is notable is that in the 68 years between the accounts of Forbes and Woolf, the economy and society of the region remained more or less unchanged.

A hackery

Hunting and Shooting with the International Elite

One feature of the Hambantota region, referred to as a “sportsman’s paradise,” was game hunting during the ‘open season.’ Magampattu was famous for its game and wild animals. Woolf (1961, p.200) writes that there was a Government Game Sanctuary located there, of “about 130 square miles, in which no shooting was allowed.” Its unusual Game Ranger, named Henry Engelbrecht, was a former Boer-War soldier from South Africa, who had been imprisoned in the island, and then stayed on and died in Sri Lanka in 1928.

The big game in Magampattu jungles were leopard, bear, elephant, buffalo and deer. There was also wild boar, snipe and teal. Although Woolf disapproved of shooting animals, he had to be officially involved in catering to the ‘hunting-shooting culture’ of the time, and to entertaining the international elite, of (in Woolf ’s words) “Princes, Counts, Barons,” as well as “less exalted people, soldiers, planters” (ibid, p.178). The international sportsmen included royalty and aristocrats, such as the Crown Prince of Germany, and Baron Blixen, a Danish cousin of Queen Alexandra. As Woolf wrote, “Big game shooting was organized in Colombo as big business,” a Colombo firm providing the hunters with carts, trackers, tents and food (ibid,p.218). Some of the hunters stayed at Woolf ’s official residence and no doubt also patronized the Hambantota Resthouse, where NU’s father would have seen to their comfort. Woolf describes his distaste for the hunting scene, and the “sportsmen” whom he described as “uncongenial” (ibid, p.218):

The issuing of licences to shoot big game… was in my hands and in the open season sportsmen from all over the world used to come to Hambantota… I got to know a great deal about… the business of big game shooting; the more I learned, the less grew my love and respect for those who shoot and for those who organize shooting. (ibid, p.176)

Leonard Woolf

As Woolf further elaborated:

As time went on and my experience of the jungle, shooting, and shooters increased, I became more and more prejudiced against my fellow white men… a great deal of this big-business organized safari… was despicable butchery. (ibid, pp.217 & 224)2

The foreign royalty, nobility and celebrities, along with the Sri Lankan rich, who visited the area for ‘big game’ hunting would have been a stark contrast to the pauperized, unhealthy villagers, whose plight had changed little over the century. Woolf had to deal with both groups; however, he had less empathy for these wealthy ‘sportsmen’ and more for the poor villagers. He became attached to the place and the people during his time there.

Map of Hambantota

As he recalled: It was Magampattu and the eastern part of the district which really won my heart and which I still see when I hear the word Hambantota: the sea perpetually thundering on the long shore, the enormous empty lagoons, behind the lagoons the enormous stretch of jungle, and behind the jungle far away in the north the long purple line of the great mountains. (Woolf, 1961, p.176)

But to the young NU of the 1920s, Hambantota district had no romantic appeal. It had not changed and still remained among the poorest parts of the island – where only the fittest survived – from where ambitious young persons had to migrate to the more-developed areas, for their education, and future employment. Looking back on his life, NU often expressed the view that he had never intended to stagnate in a place with no opportunities. An event in 1911 that galvanized people of the island was Halley’s comet, which shot across the skies. NU, aged three at the time, would have seen this spectacle – in fact, his elder sister Rosalind, aged six, recalled seeing the comet. Another witness to the event was E.F.C. Ludowyk, who recalled Halley’s comet and going with his family to view the phenomenon from a house near the sea in Galle, noted that “there were crowds to watch the comet, which blazed like a torch in a dark vault” (Ludowyk, 1989, p.71).

Leonard Woolf was also stunned by the sight in Hambantota: …[T]he head of the comet was just above the horizon, the tail flamed up the sky… The stars blazed with… brilliance only on a clear, still black night in the Southern Hemisphere and at our feet the comet and the stars blazed, reflected in the smooth velvety, black sea… it was a superb spectacle… magnificent… awe-inspiring. (Woolf, 1961, p.192) Like Halley’s comet, NU’s rise to success would prove to be meteoric.

N.U. JAYAWARDENA THE FIRST FIVE DECADES
By Kumari Jayawardena and Jennifer Moragod
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Concept of living wage and cost of living

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The International Labour Organisation (ILO) now defines a living wage as the wage level necessary for workers and their families to afford a decent standard of living, given national circumstances, for normal hours of work. This standard of living is operationalised through the cost of essential goods and services, typically including food, housing, healthcare, education, transport, and a modest allowance for contingencies and social participation.

In contrast, “cost of living” in economics is a broader price index concept that tracks the overall prices of a representative consumption basket but is not inherently normative about what constitutes decency or dignity.

Living wage methodologies effectively translate a cost-of-living basket, specified for a given family size and living standard, into a monthly income requirement for workers, thereby linking real wages to human development objectives rather than only to market productivity.

Methodologies for computing a living wage

Most contemporary living wage estimates follow a structured “cost of a basic but decent life” approach built around three steps: defining a reference family, costing a normative consumption basket, and converting that cost into a wage per worker.

The Anker methodology, widely used in global supply chains and in Sri Lanka, is a leading example: it defines a model family (e.g., 2 adults and approximately 2–3 children), estimates the cost of a low-cost nutritious diet, adequate housing, and non-food essentials, and then allocates that cost over expected number of full-time workers per family.

Within the Anker framework, the food component is based on locally appropriate diets meeting caloric and nutritional norms, priced using local market surveys and adjusted for waste and home preparation.

Housing costs are derived from standards for minimally acceptable housing (e.g., durable materials, sufficient space, basic services), using rents or imputed rental values from empirical fieldwork. Other essential expenditures, health, education, transport, clothing, and a small margin for unexpected events, are typically estimated as a percentage mark-up over food and housing costs, derived from national household survey data.

Finally, the methodology sets a reference number of workers per family, divides total family living costs by this number to get a net living wage, and then adjusts to a gross living wage by adding payroll taxes and mandatory deductions. Periodic updates are made using consumer price indices (CPIs) to reflect inflation or deflation and, where necessary, new field surveys to capture structural shifts in prices and consumption patterns.

Sri Lanka’s living wage estimates and their link to cost of living (Anker Methodology)

Sri Lanka has been the subject of several living wage studies, notably for the tea estate sector and for urban and rural areas, using the Anker methodology.

In the tea estate sector, an updated 2024 Anker report estimates the cost of a “basic but decent” standard of living for a typical family at about LKR 78,067 per month (approximately USD 260), implying a gross living wage of LKR 48,584 per month (USD 160) and a net, take-home living wage of LKR 44,357.

For urban Sri Lanka, the Anker Living Wage Reference Value was originally set at LKR 84,231 per month in April 2022, corresponding to a net living wage of LKR 77,492 plus social security contributions. After cumulative inflation of about 36.9 percent between April 2022 and June 2025, the updated gross urban living wage is estimated at approximately LKR 115,291 per month (around USD 385), consisting of a net living wage of LKR 106,068 and social security contributions of LKR 9,223

These Sri Lankan figures are explicitly derived from cost-of-living calculations: they incorporate the cost of food, housing, utilities, health, education, and other essentials at local prices and then convert these into wages per adult worker, assuming roughly 1.7–1.8 full-time earners per family. Because living wage estimates are indexed to actual price dynamics, periods of high inflation, as Sri Lanka experienced in 2022–2023, translate almost mechanically into sharp upward revisions in living wages, underlining the tight coupling between living wage levels and the evolving cost of living.

Comparative living wages: Sri Lanka and other countries

Cross-country comparisons require careful normalisation because living wages reflect local prices, family structures, and social norms, but several datasets provide a structured basis for comparison. [asia.floorwage](https://asia.floorwage.org/living-wage/calculating-a-living-wage/)

The Asia Floor Wage Alliance, for example, publishes a regional living wage benchmark expressed in purchasing power parity (PPP) terms, with a 2024 benchmark of 1,750.54 PPP dollars per month converted into local currencies using country-specific PPP exchange rates.

Using this PPP-based approach, the 2024 living wage equivalent for Sri Lanka is estimated at around LKR 158,353 per month, assuming a PPP exchange rate of about 90.5 Sri Lankan rupees per PPP dollar.

This PPP-normalised figure is substantially higher than the Anker 2024–2025 estate-sector and urban living wage estimates in nominal rupees, partly because the Asia Floor Wage benchmark is set to ensure a more harmonised standard across Asian garment-producing economies and uses a single PPP wage target.

These figures indicate that, within this PPP-based framework, Sri Lanka’s living wage in local currency is relatively high compared to countries such as India and Bangladesh, but the comparison reflects both different PPP exchange rates and domestic price structures.

From a cost-of-living perspective, this pattern is consistent with Sri Lanka being a lower-middle-income country with relatively higher prices for some essentials compared with low-income South Asian economies, especially after recent macroeconomic and inflationary shocks.

Global patterns and high-income economies

Global datasets covering more than 200 countries show that typical-family living wage levels, whether calculated in PPP or nominal terms, tend to correlate positively with national income levels, with North America, Western Europe, and Australia displaying the highest living wage values.

In this global distribution, living wages in middle- and low-income regions of Asia, Africa, and Latin America are lower in absolute terms, though the ratio of living wage to median wages or statutory minimum wages can be high, underscoring the gap between decent-work standards and prevailing labour market outcomes.

Interestingly, some studies note that rural living wage estimates can be relatively high in poorer countries because limited infrastructure and service availability raise the cost of accessing a given standard of living, such as safe water, transport, and education.

For Sri Lanka, rural Anker living wage benchmarks similarly reveal the importance of non-food costs, such as transportation to schools, health facilities, and workplaces, in shaping the total family budget, despite lower nominal rents in many rural areas.

Living wage, social policy, and Sri Lanka’s development trajectory

The emerging international consensus around a living wage is rooted in the human rights-based notion of a “decent life” rather than a subsistence minimum or an arbitrarily set statutory floor.

From a social science perspective, incorporating living wage benchmarks into wage-setting institutions, collective bargaining, and social dialogue reorients labour markets toward social reproduction, intergenerational mobility, and social cohesion, rather than merely cost competitiveness.

For Sri Lanka, where recent crises have eroded real wages and increased household vulnerability, living wage estimates such as the Anker urban and estate-sector benchmarks provide an analytically rigorous yardstick for evaluating whether current wage policies and social transfers are adequate relative to the actual cost of a basic but decent life.

Comparisons with regional PPP-based benchmarks like the Asia Floor Wage suggest that, while Sri Lanka’s living wage requirement in local currency is relatively high, the country also faces significant affordability challenges, especially for low-paid workers in export sectors and informal employment, whose earnings often fall short of these normative thresholds.

In policy terms, the living wage framework highlights the need for coordinated approaches that combine wage-setting reforms, inflation-sensitive social protection, and productivity-enhancing investments, so that rising living-cost-consistent wages do not simply translate into inflationary spirals or employment losses.

For empirical research in Sri Lanka, these benchmarks open avenues for micro-level analysis of wage gaps, household coping strategies, gendered labour outcomes, and the distributional effects of macroeconomic adjustment, all anchored to a transparent and internationally recognised living wage methodology.

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

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Buddhist philosophy and the path to lasting peace

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Echoes of ‘The Walk for Peace’

The international Walk for Peace’ reaching Colombo, joined by a large number of monks and devotees, led by spiritual leader Ven Bhikku Pannakara, with the peace dog ‘Aloka,’ completing the 161 km journey.The walk commenced in Dambulla on April 22 following the main ceremony at the Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi in Anuradhapura.Pic by Nishan S.Priyantha

by Ven. Dr. Kirinde Assaji Nayaka Thero
Chief Incumbent, Gangaramaya Temple, Hunupitiya, Colombo

Throughout human history, one of the greatest and most complex challenges has been the establishment of lasting peace and the maintenance of harmonious coexistence. While peace is often understood simply as the absence of war or armed conflict, a deeper, spiritual perspective reveals it as a profound state of social and mental harmony. It is an ideal that must be cultivated within individuals as well as across societies.

Buddhism offers one of the most practical and timeless philosophies of peace. The teachings of the Buddha are rooted in non-violence and the four sublime virtues—loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity. Central to this philosophy is the idea that true peace in the world begins with inner peace within the individual. Conflict, the Buddha taught, arises not on battlefields but within the human mind, driven by greed, hatred, and delusion. Without overcoming these negative forces, lasting peace in the external world remains unattainable.

In today’s world, marked by geopolitical tensions, economic competition, and social unrest—this inward approach to peace is more relevant than ever. Despite technological advancement, humanity continues to grapple with violence and division. The Buddha’s teaching points instead to an internal struggle: a battle against anger, jealousy, and ignorance. Rather than weapons of destruction, Buddhism promotes wisdom, compassion, patience, and discipline as the tools to overcome conflict.

The path to peace begins with understanding its causes. Just as muddy water becomes clear when left undisturbed, the human mind achieves clarity and calm when negative emotions are subdued. This principle is reflected in the Buddha’s intervention during a historic dispute between the Sakya and Koliya clans over water, where he reminded them of the greater value of human life, thereby preventing bloodshed.

In a world increasingly threatened by conflict over limited resources and political power, such lessons remain highly relevant. The Buddha also emphasised the principle of moral causation—actions have consequences.

Yadisaṃ vapate bijaṃ tadisaṃ harate phalaṃ
Kalyaāṇakariī kalyaṃ papakariī ca papakaṃ
Pavutthaṃ tata te bijaṃ phalaṃ paccanubhossasiti

“As one sows the seed, so does one reap the fruit.

The doer of good receives good results, and the doer of evil receives evil results.

Dear one, whatever seed you have planted, you will experience the corresponding fruit of it.”

At the heart of Buddhist ethics is respect for life. All beings fear harm and seek happiness, and therefore, violence against others cannot lead to true well-being. This message is particularly significant in an era where the race for power and advanced weaponry continues to overshadow compassion and humanity.

The fundamental moral discipline in Buddhism is respect for life and opposition to harming living beings. The Buddha taught that all beings desire happiness, and fear suffering, and that harming others will not lead to happiness.

Sabbe tasanti dandassa
sabbe bhayanti maccuno
attanam upamam katva
na haneyya na ghataye.

“All tremble at violence; all fear death. Comparing others with oneself, one should neither kill nor cause others to kill.”

Despite technological advancement, the world appears to be moving backwards in terms of compassion and peace. Power-driven politics and the race for advanced weaponry cannot provide lasting solutions. Global leaders, diplomats, and policymakers must urgently recognise the importance of the tolerant, balanced, and non-violent approach taught in Buddhism. Protecting the right to life of all beings, and acting with compassion beyond divisions of race, religion, or politics, is the only true foundation for world peace.

Sri Lanka, as a nation nourished by the essence of Buddhism, has long upheld this principle. The Sri Lankan tradition, rooted in boundless loving-kindness and compassion, strives to uphold human values even amidst the harsh realities of global politics. From the respect shown by King Dutugemunu towards King Elara, to Sri Lanka’s stance at the 1951 San Francisco Peace Conference invoking the words “Hatred is never appeased by hatred,” to recent humanitarian acts in rescuing sailors in distress—these all reflect a single philosophy: valuing human life above all divisions.

The presentation of a “Joint Declaration for Peace” by the Mahanayake Theros at Gangaramaya Temple recently reaffirmed Sri Lanka’s commitment to global peace. Despite global power struggles, Sri Lanka continues to stand as a symbol of compassion and peace, reminding the world that human kindness is more powerful than weapons.

Institutions such as the Gangaramaya Temple have played a vital role in fostering social harmony. Through charitable, educational, and cultural programmes, the temple has encouraged unity across religious and ethnic lines, while also promoting interfaith dialogue and cooperation.

The annual Navam Maha Perahera, organised by the temple, stands as a powerful symbol of national unity, bringing together people from diverse backgrounds in a shared celebration. Similarly, vocational training and educational initiatives have helped empower young people from all communities, strengthening social cohesion.

A recent “Walk for Peace,” led by Venerable Pannakara Thero and supported by the monastic community, further underscored this commitment. More than a physical journey, it represented a spiritual effort to cultivate peace within the human heart and spread a message of compassion to the wider world.

One of the most touching aspects of the event was the participation of a dog named “Aloka,” which accompanied the monks throughout the journey. This simple yet powerful image reflected the Buddhist teaching that all living beings value life and deserve compassion, highlighting the universal nature of peace.

Ultimately, the Buddha’s message remains clear: peace cannot be achieved through hatred or violence. True peace arises from self-discipline, moral conduct, and the cultivation of a pure mind. As the teaching states, avoiding evil, doing good, and purifying one’s mind is the path laid down by the Buddha.

Let us plant the seeds of peace within our hearts and nurture them with loving-kindness. (“Sabba papassa akarananṃ – kusalassa upasampadā – sacitta pariyodapanaṃ – etaṃ Buddhana sasanaṃ”)

In a time when global tensions continue to rise, this timeless message serves as a powerful reminder that lasting peace begins within each individual—and that compassion remains humanity’s greatest strength.

“Devo vassatu kalena – sassa sampatti hetu ca
Pito bhavatu loko ca – rajaā bhavatu dhammiko”

(“May the rains fall at the right time, bringing about abundant harvests.

May the world be joyful and prosperous.

May the ruler be righteous and just.”)

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Peace march and promise of reconciliation

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Peace walk in progress

The ongoing peace march by a group of international Buddhist monks has captured the sentiment of Sri Lankans in a manner that few public events have done in recent times. It is led by the Vietnamese monk Venerable Thich Pannakara who is associated with a mindfulness movement that has roots in Vietnamese Buddhist practice and actively promoted among diaspora communities in the United States. The peace march by the monks, accompanied by their mascot, the dog Aloka, has generated affection and goodwill within the Buddhist and larger community. It follows earlier peace walks in the United States where monks carried a similar message of mindfulness and compassion across communities but without any government or even media patronage as in Sri Lanka.

This initiative has the potential to unfold into an effort to nurture a culture of peace in Sri Lanka. Such a culture is necessary if the country as the country prepares to move beyond its history of conflict towards a more longlasting reconciliation and a political solution to its ethnic and religious divisions. The government’s support for the peace march can be seen as part of a broader attempt to shape such a culture. The Clean Sri Lanka programme, promoted by the government as a civic responsibility campaign focused on environmental cleanliness, ethical conduct and social discipline, provides a useful framework within which such initiatives can be situated. Its emphasis on collective responsibility and shared public space makes it sit well with the values that peacebuilding requires.

government’s previous plan to promote a culture of peace was on the occasion of “Sri Lanka Day” celebrations which were scheduled to take place on December 12-14 last year but was disrupted by Cyclone Ditwah. The Sri Lanka Day celebrations were to include those talented individuals from each and every community at the district level who had excelled in some field or the other, such as science, business or arts and culture and selected by the District Secretariats in each of the 25 districts. They were to gather in Colombo to engage in cultural performances and community-focused exhibitions. The government’s intention was to build up a discourse around the ideas of unity in diversity as a precursor to addressing the more contentious topics of human rights violations during the war period, and issues of accountability and reparations for wrongs suffered during that dark period.

Positive Response

The invitation to the international monks appears to have emerged from within Buddhist religious networks in Sri Lanka that have long maintained links with the larger international Buddhist community. The strong support extended by leading temples and clergy within the country, including the Buddhists Mahanayakes indicates that this was not an isolated effort but one that resonated with the mainstream Buddhist establishment. Indeed, the involvement of senior Buddhist leaders has been particularly noteworthy. A Joint Declaration for Peace in the world, drawing on Sri Lanka’s own experience, and by the Mahanayakes of all Buddhist Chapters took place in the context of the ongoing peace march at the Gangaramaya Temple in Colombo, with participation from the diplomatic community. The declaration, calling for compassion, dialogue and sustainable peace, reflects an effort by religious leadership to assert a moral voice in favour of coexistence.

The popular response to the peace march has also been striking. Large numbers of people have been gathering along the route, offering flowers, water and support to the monks. Schoolchildren have been lining the roads, and communities from different religious backgrounds extend hospitality. On the way, the monks were hosted by both a Hindu temple and a mosque, where food and refreshments were provided. These acts, though simple, carry a message about the possibility of harmony among Sri Lanka’s diverse communities. It helps to counter the perception that the Buddhist community in Sri Lanka is inherently nationalist and resistant to minority concerns that was shaped during the decades of war and reinforced by political mobilisation that too often exploited ethnic identity.

By way of contrast, the peace march offers a different image. It shows a readiness among ordinary people to embrace values of compassion and coexistence that are deeply embedded in Buddhist teaching. The Metta Sutta, one of the most well-known discourses in Buddhism, calls for boundless goodwill towards all beings. It states that one should cultivate a mind that is “boundless towards all beings, free from hatred and ill will.” This emphasis on universal compassion provides a moral foundation for peace that extends beyond national or ethnic boundaries. The monks themselves emphasised this point repeatedly during the walk. Venerable Thich Pannakara reminded those who gathered that while acts of generosity are commendable, mindfulness in everyday life is even more important. He warned that as people become unmindful, they are more prone to react with anger and hatred, thereby contributing to conflict.

More Initiatives

The presence of political leaders at key moments of the march has emphasised the significance that the government attaches to the event. Prime Minister Harini Amarasuriya paid her respects to the peace march monks in Kandy, while President Anura Kumara Dissanayake is expected to do so at the conclusion of the march in Colombo. Such gestures signal an alignment between political authority and moral aspiration, even if the translation of that aspiration into policy remains a work in progress. At the same time, the peace march has not been without its shortcomings. The walk did not engage with the Northern and Eastern parts of the country, regions that were most affected by the war and where the need for reconciliation is most acute. A more inclusive geographic reach would have strengthened the symbolic impact of the initiative.

In addition, the positive impact of the peace march could have been increased if more effort had been taken to coordinate better with other civic and religious groups and include them in the event. Many civil society and religious harmony groups who would have liked to participate in the peace march found themselves unable to do so. There was no place in the programme for them to join. Even government institutions tasked with promoting social cohesion and reconciliation found themselves outside the loop. The Clean Sri Lanka Task Force that organised the peace march may have felt that involving other groups would have made it more complicated to organise the events which have proceeded without problems.

The hope is that the positive energy and goodwill generated by this peace march will not dissipate but will instead inspire further initiatives with the requisite coordination and leadership. The march has generated public discussion, drawn attention to the values of mindfulness and compassion, and created a space in which people can imagine a different future. It has been a special initiative among the many that are needed to build a culture of peace. A culture of peace cannot be imposed from above nor can it emerge overnight. It needs to be nurtured through multiple efforts across society, including education, religious engagement, civic initiatives and political reform. It is within such a culture that the more difficult questions of power sharing, justice and reconciliation can be addressed in a constructive manner.

by Jehan Perera

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