Midweek Review

Vignettes of the Open-Air Theatre

Published

5 years ago

2020/11/25

by Prof. K. N. O. Dharmadasa

It is indisputably The Open-Air Theatre – the first of its kind in the country and the most well-known. There indeed are some other similar constructions, like the one at Vihara Maha Devi Park, Colombo. But when theatre lovers talk of ‘the Open-Air Theatre’, the reference is unmistakably to the Open-Air Theatre in the ‘University Park’, Peradeniya. Incidentally, the appellation ‘University Park’ was a creation of Sir Ivor Jennings, the Founder Vice Chancellor of the University. The area where the university buildings were located was known by this name. Sir Ivor was so enamoured of the site that he called it ‘one of the most beautiful environments in the world” (his autobiography The Road to Peradeniya,198). His Annual Reports usually had a sub-section titled ‘University Park’; he reported on the building programme and the landscaping, etc. Coming back to the Open-Air Theatre, which was constructed three years after he left in January 1955, undoubtedly adds to the beauty of the whole landscape – a good example of how a tastefully constructed structure which blends with the surroundings can enhance the natural beauty of a place.

The conception

The Open-Air Theatre was ceremonially declared open in early 1958. The first drama staged there was Sarchchandra’s epoch making Maname. As all theatre lovers know, the initial staging of Maname was on Nov. 3, 1956 at the Lionel Wendt Theatre in Colombo and nearly 100 performances would have taken place during the 15 or so months before it was staged at the newly constructed Open-Air Theatre in Peradeniya. Prof. Sarachchandra in his Memoirs, Pin Ethi Sarasavi Waramak Denne, (published in 1985) gives a detailed account of the founding of the Open-Air Theatre, which aptly bears his name today.

Maname had already been staged and the first accolade had come from an unusual quarter. Regi Siriwardene, a highly respected critic and journalist attached to the Lake House Group of Newspapers called it “the finest thing I have seen on the Sinhalese stage” (Ceylon Daily News, Nov. 5) Many shows followed in Colombo, Kandy and other cities and several other writers to the English newspapers showered praise on this remarkable achievement as exemplifying what the national theatrical form could be. But the Sinhalese newspapers remained silent for quite some time and Sarachchandra kept wondering why it was so. “Was it due to the habitual antipathy towards the University by most of the journalists or was it because they failed to understand what Maname signified?” But the breakthrough came eventually. Sri Chandraratne Manavasinghe, the highly respected writer and journalist attached to the editorial staff of the daily Lankadeepa, wrote a highly complimentary review of the play in his daily column Waga –Tuga and called it an Abhiranga (super-drama).

Sarachchandra with his vast experience in Oriental and Occidental theatre traditions, believed that “a super-performance of Maname could be done, not on a proscenium stage which was meant for staging naturalistic plays, but on a circular stage, (ranga madala)”. And he was on the lookout for such a place … amidst the hilly terrain of Peradeniya. He adds:

“Those days I was residing in one of the three bungalows on Sanghamitta Hill. While descending the hill and walking towards the Arts Block, I noticed a piece of land concave in shape, like a part of a broken clay pot. This was a terraced paddy field which had been abandoned and was overgrown with weeds. At the bottom of the land was a flat space. Although I had been passing that place daily it was only after I started thinking of an open-air theatre that it struck me as a suitable location for what is known as an Amphitheatre – an auditorium with a stage. The space at the bottom could be used as a stage and the audience could sit in the terraces” (p. 209)

Acoustics

Sarachchandra was not prepared to rush into conclusions. Although the land appeared suitable in appearance, there was a crucial consideration when it came to an open-air theatre. “It was essential,” he adds. “To find out what the acoustics of this place was like for theatre performance. One evening I went there with a group of students. I think Gunasena Galappaththi was one of them. I placed several of them in various places in the pit and made them talk and sing. Then I realized that it was a place with natural amplification of sound. The Epidorus Amphitheatre in Greece came to my mind. If you stand anywhere and strike a match you will be able to hear it. (p.210).

Now the problem was that of the logistics. At this time (1956-7) Sarachchandra was only a lecturer. He had no ‘clout’ to order officials in the administration. Of course, his fame and prestige were growing rapidly and by 1960 a special Chair of Sinhala was created for him, which was the first such occasion in the history of the University. But that is anticipating events. We resume the story of the construction of the OAT as narrated by Sarachchandra himself. Sarachchandra says:

“I had no power to give orders to the Works Department or to the Administrative Section. That could be done only by the Vice Chancellor or the Registrar. The expenses involved in constructing even an amphitheatre at the site I mentioned would be minimal. What had to be done was cutting and removing the weeds on the terraces, constructing in cement a circular stage at the bottom and putting up a cadjan shed behind it.” (pp. 210-11)

Now, the dilemma Sarachchandra was faced with was whether or not the Vice Chancellor would accept his proposal to construct an open-air theatre. Sarachchandra’s estimation of the Vice Chancellor Sir Nicholas Attygalle was not at all complimentary. “Like most people of the English-speaking upper class,” says Sarachchandra,

“He was completely devoid of any taste for the arts (kalaa vihiina). Although he was a Professor in the Faculty of Medicine before becoming Vice Chancellor, his range of knowledge was small (alpasruta). He did not have even a modicum of interest on theatre, literature, music, etc. I do not know whether he had read any other book outside the field of medicine.” (p.211).

For the present-day reader, I have to give an explanation. Without digressing too far it needs be noted that during the Attygalle phase of the University administration, there was a sharp division in the academic staff as pro-Attydalle and anti-Attygalle, and that was due largely to the dictatorial administrative style of the Vice Chancellor. It is clear where Sarachchandra stood in this division. In any case Prof. Attygalle had not displayed any interest in the arts. And the problem then was how to get the approval of a man like that for the construction of an open-air theatre. Then the miracle happened once again.

The Vice Chancellor came to know about Maname under fortuitous if not trivial circumstances. Continues Sarachchandra, “He came to know for the first time that a play named Maname had been created by a person named Sarachchandra, who was on his staff and that it was winning accolades in the country, from a group of lecturers who used to sit before his table daily, rumour-mongering and engaging in empty prattle. It was difficult for Mr. Attygalle, who had never seen a play, to understand what Maname was. He did not want to understand either. But because of the persuasions, he summoned me and asked me what this wondrous thing I had done was about which he had heard so much.” (p.211)

Sarachchandra now had to be humble. “I told him it was not a big miracle, but the production of a play. ‘Then why are they praising it so much’ he asked ‘and telling me I should see it somehow?” Next came the crucial question “Can it be shown in the University?” This created the opening Sarachchandra was looking for.

“I told him that there is no suitable theatre in the University where it could be shown. ‘But would it be possible,’ Then I asked, ‘whether such and such a place could be prepared for the purpose?’ He summoned the officers immediately and ordered them to construct without delay an open-air theatre on the site I had mentioned.” (p.211)

Sarachchandra then describes in humorous Sinhala how the officials set about their job and finished it in no time:

“The officers bent themselves double and treble, ran there, cut down the bush, pounded the ground, got a pretty circular stage made in cement, got a cadjan shed put up and created an amphitheatre in two or three days.” (p.211)

Sarachchandra’s narration about the opening of the Open-Air Theatre is quite informative, albeit with a touch of humour:

“On that day was presented the first ‘performance on orders’ (agnapita rangaya) of Maname before an audience which consisted of the Vice Chancellor, some members of the staff, Mr. Kilpatrick of the Rockefeller Foundation, the students and village folk coming from the neighbourhood. That was the day the Open-Air Theatre in Peradeniya was born. Maname came into being on 3rd November, 1956. It was performed in an ideal atmosphere, without damaging the traditional Nadagam style, at the Open-Air Theatre on a night of either February or March 1958 ((p. 212).

Mr. Kilpatrick referred to here is the Rockefeller Foundation representative who, after reading Sarachchandra’s well researched The Sinhalese Folk Play (1952) had granted him a travelling scholarship some years ago, to study theatre in any country he wished, which eventually enabled him to see the Japanese Kabuki giving him the clue to bring a traditional folk theatre on modern stage. Let us get back again to our discussion about the Peradeniya Open Air Theatre.

Improvements

During the early days the ‘seating’ terraces were levelled earth with trimmed grass. As the location, an abandoned paddy field with a running stream in the vicinity was damp the whole year round, it was a good breeding ground for leeches. During the days when plays were being performed, the leeches had a gala time. I myself remember my first experience of watching a play there, back in my first year 1959, Dayanada Gunawardena’s Parassa. There was a blood patch on my trousers and it was no easy task stopping the blood flow because it is said leeches inject their saliva, which prevents blood-clotting! Eventually, however, the terraces came to be constructed in granite and the leach population dwindled although one finds a stray leech climbing up one’s legs if one were to stand on the grass. Another casualty of the granite and cement intrusion was the lushly grown Tabubia Rosea tree which used to spread a carpet of light pink flowers on the terraces during the blooming season. Most probably its roots were suffocated by the cement construction.

The original Green Room, which was a cadjan shed as described by Sarachchandra, later came to be a Takaran shed with walls and roof made of galvanized sheets. It was painted in Green! Anyway, in the 1990s when I was the Chairman of the Arts Council, we managed to get a permanent Green Room constructed during the period 1991-92. I gratefully acknowledge the support we got from the Vice Chancellors Prof. Lakshman Jayatilaka and Prof. J. M. Gunadasa for these improvements. It was on March 24, 1993 that we named the theatre as Sarachchandra Elimahan Ranga Pitaya in honour of the man who had done so much for the Sri Lankan drama. I remember him attending the naming ceremony (again with a performance of Maname) and rising from his seat in the front row, facing the audience acknowledging the cheering of the massive crowd with hands clasped in Namaskara. He left us three years later on 16 August 1996.

An event highly significant in the annals of Sinhala theatre is the first staging of Sinhabahu on 31 August, 1961 at the Open-Air Theatre. There was a slight drizzle at the start of the performance which stopped after some time. I remember sitting on the damp grass watching the play on that memorable night. Fifty years later, on 28 November 2011, we were able to commemorate the Golden Jubilee of this play at the same venue, although we badly missed our beloved Guru. Special mention should be made of the patronage we received from the Vice Chancellor, Prof. S.B. Abeykoon, who made arrangements to show the play free of charge. Incidentally, he hails from Uda Peradeniya and has told us how as a child he had watched shows at the OAT seated on his father’s lap!

Drama Festivals

The most important annual event in the Open-Air Theatre was the Annual Drama Festival. In the good old days before the university calendar got disrupted, the Drama Festival was held in mid or the last week of January. This was the beginning of the third Term which consisted of 10 weeks of teaching and the examinations were scheduled for the last two weeks of March. January was selected because it was normally a dry period with no rains to disrupt the shows.

here would be a slight drizzle as the festival begins. Normally, the festival lasts seven or eight days and two invariable items would be Maname and later, Sinhabahu. when that university ‘term system’ got severely disrupted, the drama festivals came to be held in different periods, even during rainy seasons. One of the indelible memories I have of the OAT is of a show in the 1990s, when the packed audience sat there with rapt attention in the pouring rain.

When the festival is on, there is a festive atmosphere in the area. When the evening falls, people start gathering and various itinerant traders come, vendors of gram, peanuts, sara vita and even balloon vendors because sometimes parents come there with their children. I forgot to mention that this is not a mere university drama festival but a drama festival for the whole vicinity. People from Uda Peradeniya, Hidagala as well as other adjoining villages throng to the Open-Air Theatre during the festival.

Acid Test

There is a belief among theatre lovers in Sri Lanka that if a play could be staged at the Open-Air Theatre and come off unscathed that would be the best touchstone for ascertaining its success. It is difficult to explain the origins of this belief. With my experience from 1959 onwards, I can say that in those early days there was no unsuccessful play as such. It could be that all the plays staged there were good plays, carefully selected by the Arts Council, which managed the Annual Drama Festival. But in the 1970s, there were three unfortunate incidents, all of them involving plays by leading dramatists in the country, where the jeering by the crowd became unmanageable and the performances had to be abandoned. The first instance, if my memory is correct, was the play Sarana Siyot Se Putuni Hamba Yana by Henry Jayasena. The second, I think was Bak Maha Akunu by Dayananda Gunawardena. And the third was Cherry Watta by Somalatha Subasinghe. If my memory is correct, the failure of the first and the last mentioned, Sarana Siyot Se…and Cherry Watta were due to their lack of dramatic concentration and long spells of dialogue which tired the audience. In the case of Bak MahaAkunu what provoked the jeering was the over enthusiasm of the actor who played the role of the servant Jason. He got carried away in his diatribe against his master, the Mudalituma, who was making advances to his beloved Pabulina . He came on stage with sarong half tucked up, and uttered something that just fell short of a four-letter word and the audience protested immediately. The furore was uncontrollable and the show had to be abandoned. Possibly, these early experiences led to the belief that a show at the OAT is an acid test for the success for a play. At the same time, it needs be added that the two “failed” plays, Sarana Siyot Se and Cherry Watta were plays not quite suitable for an open-air theatre. But this leads to a theoretical problem which needs be addressed separately. The three incidents mentioned were sad occasions as all three dramatists involved were people dedicated to their vocation. Furthermore, Dayananda and Somalatha were respected alumni of the Peradeniya University.

It needs mention that that not all dramatists were prepared to take these judgments of the OAT audience lying down. I remember two incidents, both in the 1980s when the dramatists came on stage and challenged the jeering audience. One instance was when Namel Weeramuni, who was giving a performance of his Nettukkari, where he himself was playing a leading role. Incidentally, he himself is an alumnus of Peradeniya of the period when the OAT was constructed and he would have been thoroughly annoyed at this behaviour of the campus denizens of a later period. He came on stage in his costume and addressed the audience telling them that it was with great difficulty that anybody produces a drama and it should not be treated with such disrespect. Whoever did not like the play, could leave the audience allowing those who wished to stay back, watch the play. The shouting died down after some time and the play was resumed. The other incident involved Solomon Fonseka, who had won accolades all round for his star performance in Dayananda Gumawardena’s Nari Bena, some years back. Since then he had studied the art of theatre in a European university and obtained a Doctorate. This time he had produced his own play and was staging it in the OAT. For some reason which I forget, the audience became restive and started hooting. Solomon stopped the show, sent the other actors to the Green Room and addressed the audience in a defiant tone: “You fellows (umbala) call yourself educated. But what kind of education do you have if you are not civilized enough to behave yourself in a theatre? If someone does not like a play he can walk out and allow those who want to watch it, do so.” That worked. And the audience became quiet allowing the show to continue.

PS The reader would have noticed that I have refrained from using the trivial term “wala” which has come into much use in referring to this theatre. That is because it demeans the stature of this special theatre in our country.

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Midweek Review

SJB jolted by AKD-Eran move

Published

3 days ago

2026/05/6

Sahan Weerasooriya

Sri Lanka’s disastrous tour of Australia in 2022 (09 Oct. to 13 Nov.) caused widespread anger among the cricket community and the cricket loving public. The Auditor General’s special report that dealt with that tour revealed significant financial irregularities regarding the SLC executive committee’s visit there for the 2022 T20 World Cup. In spite of heavy media focus on the AG’s report in the run-up to the World Cup debacle in India, the government lacked the political will to deal with the developing situation. The then Auditor General W.P. C. Wickramaratne stood by his report. The top official, who retired in April 2025, reiterated the serious revelations but the Parliament conveniently discarded it.

Former parliamentarian Eran Wickramaratne’s unexpected move jolted the Samagi Jana Balawegaya (SJB). In spite of being aware of covert moves to bring in Wickramaratne as chief of the corruption-riddled Sri Lanka Cricket (SLC), in place of Shammi Silva, the SJB never really believed it could succeed as it was considered a literal goldmine. But when President Anura Kumara Dissanayake pushed the deal through on 29 April, a furious SJB General Secretary Ranjith Madduma Bandara, however, tried to save face by merely declaring it as a political appointment. The veteran politician said so when the media sought his reaction to Wickramaratne’s move at the P.D. Sirisena grounds, Maligawatte, the venue of SJB May Day rally.

Earlier, in response to Wickramaratne’s declaration that he quit the SJB’s Working Committee and Management Committee to pave the way for him to accept the top SLC post, Madduma Bandara asked Wickramaratne to give up the party membership, too.

President Dissanayake’s move caught the main Opposition party, as well as the Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna (SLPP), by surprise. The vast majority of parliamentarians, representing the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP)-led ruling National People’s Power (NPP), couldn’t have been aware of the operation executed by President Dissanayake.

There hadn’t been a previous instance of the NPP accommodating an ex-parliamentarian from a rival party in any capacity. The top NPP leadership always indicated that those who represented other political parties in Parliament wouldn’t be welcome. Ex-lawmaker Field Marshal Sarath Fonseka threw his weight behind the JVP/NPP on numerous occasions, during Aragalaya and the post-presidential polls. Although some expected the war-winning Army Commander to receive an invitation from the NPP, it never materialised. Then, what really made the NPP extend an invitation to Wickramaratne, who first entered Parliament on the UNP National List at the 2010 general election. Wickramaratne contested Colombo at the 2015 general election on the UNP ticket and was appointed Deputy Minister of Investment Promotions and Highways. Widely regarded as one of UNP leader Ranil Wickremesinghe’s favourites, Wickramaratne switched his allegiance to Sajith Premadasa in early 2020 and contested the Colombo district on the newly registered SJB and served as a lawmaker till 2024. Wickramaratne failed to regain his seat in the 2024 general election.

Wickramaratne had been one of the leading proponents of Yahapalanaya (2015-2020) that perpetrated Treasury bond scams in February, 2015, and March, 2016, and a key member of the 106 parliamentary group. As a SJBer, he represented a much smaller parliamentary group that consisted of 54 lawmakers.

What made the former banker, Wickramaratne, accept the daunting challenge of restructuring the utterly corrupt SLC, the country’s richest sports body, embroiled in wasteful practices? As a key member of the SJB, during the 2020-2024 period, Wickramaratne knew how SLC manipulated Parliament and proceeded with its agenda during Shammi Silva’s leadership.

The SJB spearheaded a vigorous campaign, targeting SLC, though it never managed to overwhelm the sports body that enjoyed unprecedented backing of the executive. In spite of the Parliament unanimously adopting a joint resolution calling for the removal of the SLC management, including its Chairman Shammi Silva, that board remained. President Dissanayake executed an operation that replaced Shammi Silva with Eran Wickramaratne. That brought Wickramaratne’s affiliation with the SJB to an unceremonious end. Ex-MP Wickramaratne made his move at the expense of the SJB parliamentary group, now down to 40 in the current Parliament.

The NPP secured an extraordinary 159 seats at the last parliamentary election. That tally included 18 National List slots.

The second largest party in Parliament consists of 40 including five NL slots. The remaining seats in the 225-member Parliament were shared by Ilankai Tamil Arasu Kadchi (ITAK/8), New Democratic Front (NDF/5), Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna (SLPP/3), Sri Lanka Muslim Congress (SLMC/3), Sarvajana Balaya (SB/1), United National Party (UNP/1), Democratic Tamil National Alliance (DTNA/1), All Ceylon Tamil Congress (ACTC/1), All Ceylon Makkal Congress (ACMC/1), Jaffna – Independent Group 17 (IND17-1) and the Sri Lanka Labour Party (SLLP/1).

A surprising move

The NPP brought in Wickramaratne ostensibly to clean up SLC at a time the current dispensation, plagued by various allegations, is under heavy fire. Many eyebrows were raised over the calculated move that eased pressure on the government. Obviously, the former investment banker had no qualms in joining the government, amidst the continuing controversy over (1) release of 323 red-flagged containers from the Colombo port, without mandatory physical checks; (2) resignation of Energy Minister Punykumara aka Kumara Jayakody, after the release of the damning National Audit Office (NAO) report on the coal-scam, in the wake of the unsuccessful SJB No-Confidence Motion (NCM), the first since the 2024 September presidential election; (3) massive Rs 13.2 bn fraud at the National Development Bank in which Eran served as the Chief Executive Officer in 2001 (4) staggering USD 2.5 mn heist at the Treasury that devastated the government.

It would be pertinent to mention that he resigned from the NDB to enter Parliament on the UNP National List at the 2010 parliamentary poll, close on the heels of the re-election of Mahinda Rajapaksa for a second presidential term.

Within 24-hours after Wickramaratne accepted the NPP offer, the Treasury scam took an absolutely unexpected turn when an Assistant Director at the External Resources Department of the Finance Ministry, Ranga Rajapaksa, who had been interdicted over the alleged theft, was found dead, under suspicious circumstances, just outside his residence in Kuliyapitiya.

In spite of a panel of Judicial Medical Consultants, appointed to conduct the post-mortem examination on the body of Ranga Rajapaksa, concluded that all injuries were self-inflicted and that the death was due to suicide, the SJB questioned the circumstances of the death.

The SJB felt betrayed by Eran’s move at a time the Opposition was making headway, though the NPP enjoy an unchallengeable 2/3 majority in Parliament. Confident that corruption allegations, particularly the USD 2.5 mn affair and the suicide of top Finance Ministry official eroded public confidence, the SJB challenged the NPP to hold the long-delayed Provincial Council polls. The challenge was issued at the May Day rally held at P.D. Sirisena grounds, Maligawatta. SJB leader Sajith Premadasa declared if President Dissanayake accepted his challenge the next May Day will be held with SJB Chief Ministers in charge of the PCs.

The man is definitely no saint either as he once got caught campaigning with a group of his supporters in Moratuwa during the moratorium on canvassing just before an election.

Eran Wickramaratne, whatever said and done in his defence, will find it extremely difficult to explain why he switched his allegiance to the NPP, particularly against the backdrop of serious allegations. The ongoing parliamentary probe into the container affair, as well as the growing energy crisis due to the West Asia conflict, and low quality coal supplied to the country’s only coal-fired power plant, Lakvijaya at Norochcholai, and threat to the banking sector, obviously failed to deter Wickramaratne from switching sides. The former Deputy Minister obviously risked his principled stand throughout his political career against corruption.

However, like all other UNP and SJB politicians, Wickramaratne cannot, under any circumstances, absolve himself of the UNP’s culpability in Treasury bond scams, perpetrated under Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe’s watch. Perhaps, over a decade after the first Treasury bond scam, many people still do not know that the Central Bank had been under Wickremesinghe at the time when then Central Bank Governor, Singaporean Arjuna Mahendran, struck. Wickramaratne remained loyal to the party though, unlike Sujeewa Senasinghe (current member of SJB parliamentary group), he didn’t launch a booklet in defence of Mahendran.

In the wake of Sajith Premadasa’s defeat at the 2019 presidential election, the party split, with the majority of members of the UNP group in the Yahapalana parliament switching allegiance to Sajith Premadasa. The SJB never explained its stance on Treasury bond scams that ruined the administration, at the very onset of its much-touted 100-day programme. The SJB needs to at least acknowledge its responsibility for its conduct, during that time, as some of those who shielded the bond thieves represent the party in Parliament now.

Widely referred to as the “footnote gang” the group has been accused of inserting footnotes into a COPE committee report on the Central Bank Treasury bond scams, literally challenging its findings. Key members often highlighted include Harsha de Silva, Sujeewa Senasinghe, Ajith P. Perera, Harshana Rajakaruna, Hector Appuhamy, Ashok Abeysinghe, Abdul Maharoof, Wasantha Aluvihare, and Ravindra Samaraweera.

Shammi vs Roshan

In the wake of Sri Lanka’s humiliating exit from the 2023 ICC Men’s Cricket World Cup following a massive 302 run-defeat inflicted by India at Wankhede Stadium, Mumbai. Australia won the tournament played in India from October 05 to November 19, 2023.

Sports Minister Roshan Ranasinghe, who also held the Youth Affairs and Irrigation portfolios, pounced on the opportunity to oust Shammi Silva’s cricket administration. The Polonnaruwa District MP, as well as those who wanted to see the back of Shammi Silva, who had been at the helm, since February, 2019, felt that they wouldn’t get a better chance. The SJB threw its full weight behind the Sports Minister’s project though he represented the SLPP that reached a consensus with Ranil Wickremesinghe, regarding post-Aragalaya administration. For the SJB, the Sports Minister’s move presented an opportunity to rock the administration struggling to cope up with growing economic woes.

Within days after India thrashed Sri Lanka, Ranasinghe sacked the cricket administration and brought in a committee, headed by Arjuna Ranatunga, the skipper of 1996 World Cup winning team. Inclusion of Jayantha Dharmadasa in the Ranatunga-led interim committee caused controversy though, as a whole, the public approved the move. But, Shammi hit back hard. Within 24 hours, SLC challenged the Minister’s action.

The Court of Appeal quashed the Sports Minister’s decision to sack the country’s crisis-ridden cricket board and restored the expelled officials, pending a full hearing. Shammi had the unconditional backing of the Indian Cricket board and, most importantly, the protection of the executive. Wickremesinghe had no qualms in shielding Shammi and his team, though Sports Minister Roshan was elected to Parliament on the SLPP ticket.

An irate Sports Minister revealed in Parliament how Wickremesinghe demanded that he rescind the decision to sack the cricket administration. Wickremesinghe wanted Shammi back at the helm of the SLC whatever the allegations directed at him. The Sports Minister disclosed in Parliament how he refused to carry out Wickremesinghe dictatorial directive and challenged him to do whatever he desired.

The resolution, unanimously adopted by the Parliament on 09 November, 2023, to get rid of the cricket administration, had no impact on Wickremesinghe. Eran Wickramaratne had been a member of that Parliament though he now quietly contributed to a strategy that enabled the NPP government to replace Shammi without causing any unnecessary issues.

When Roshan declined to reinstate what he repeatedly described as corrupt cricket administration, Wickremesinghe sacked him from the Cabinet of Ministers. Perhaps, the UNP leader had the tacit support of the top SLPP leadership to drop the ‘Pohottuwa’ man from the Cabinet. The SLPP never really took up that issue as Wickremesinghe, in consultation with his Chief of Staff Sagala Ratnayaka, plotted a controversial course.

The sacked Sports Minister hit back hard at Wickremesinghe and Sagala Ratnayaka, in and outside Parliament. Alleging that his life was in danger, Roshan said that in case of any harm caused to him, Wickremesinghe and Ratnayake should be held responsible. The lawmaker urged the Speaker not to expunge his statement from Hansard.

During the war of words, between Roshan and the SLC in November, 2023, the latter lodged a complaint with the Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption (CIABOC) accusing him of misappropriation of funds made available by them to the National Sports Fund. There had never been a similar case in which the Cricket Board/SLC moved CIABOC against the subject Minister.

Shammi proved again that with right connections challenges could be successfully neutralised. But, his feat remains extraordinary as he thwarted the unanimous resolution adopted against him in Parliament. There had never been an instance where the Parliament took such a stance in respect of an individual or a particular body. Wickremesinghe, in spite of the Parliament, at that time, represented by only one National list MP from the UNP (defeated Galle District candidate Wajira Abeywardena) without hesitation sacked a Cabinet Minister appointed by his predecessor Gotabaya Rajapaksa.

Wickremesinghe’s actions underscored how the executive could undermine Parliament, regardless of consequences. Shammi emerged far stronger and proceeded with his agenda.

A visit to Mandaitivu

Having backed the SJB-led November 2023 move in Parliament against SLC, perhaps the electorate believed the first elected post-Aragalaya government would swiftly move against the powerful cricket administration. However, that issue took a back seat as the NPP confronted other challenges. By then previously mentioned issues, particularly the coal scam that exposed the NPP’s duplicity, grabbed media attention, and SLC was conveniently forgotten.

Then suddenly, on Shammi Silva’s invitation, President Dissanayake visited Mandaitivu island, situated about three kms off Jaffna town and is connected to the peninsula, via a causeway.

On September 1, 2025, Dissanayake laid the foundation stone there for what the SLC called Jaffna international cricket ground, on 48 acres, featuring 10 centre wickets with boundary distance extending up to 80 meters, exceeding international standards. The SLC declared the proposed seventh international stadium would have a spectator capacity of 40,000, positioning it as a premier cricket destination in the region.

The SLC couldn’t complete the work before the end of December, 2025, due to Cyclone Ditwah, and other reasons, including the absence of an Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA) report. The Chairman of the Central Environmental Authority, Professor Tilak Hewawasam, is on record as having said in late February this year that instructions were issued to halt the construction work under way at the Jaffna International Cricket Stadium until SLC secured environmental impact assessments to permit them to grant formal approval.

The launch of the Mandaitivu project was in line with the overall plan to create a 138-acre sports city in the Jaffna district. Those who opposed the project have alleged that it would be an ecological disaster and Mandaitivu should never have been considered for an international cricket stadium. It would be interesting to see how the new SLC chief addressed this issue alone, leaving aside all else.

Some of the criticism directed at the Jaffna sports city project is political. Northern Province-based politicians and other interested parties, not with the NPP, feel the proposed project may further erode their support base. Their concerns have to be addressed, taking into consideration President Dissanayake’s success in winning both the Northern and Eastern electoral districts at the presidential and parliamentary polls in 2024. The NPP created political history when it defeated the Illankai Thamil Arasu Kadchi (ITAK) in predominantly Tamil speaking regions thereby proving that the party could be overwhelmed.

Although the ITAK regained some respectability at the Local Government polls in 2025, the NPP still enjoys overwhelming superiority in the North and East but the actual situation can be ascertained only if President Dissanayake accepted the SJB’s challenge to conduct Provincial Council polls soon.

Wickramaratne now faces an extraordinary challenges, a situation he never experienced during the time as a UNP MP from 2010 to 2020 and then SJB lawmaker from 2020 to 2024. It wouldn’t be easy as many interested parties, including those antagonised by his move whatever the consequences of Mandaitivu environmental issues, would be out to target him. In case Wickramaratne failed in his capacity as the SLC chief to take remedial measures, he would have to face the consequences. The NPP, too, will be at the receiving end for obvious reasons.

While a section of the SJB asserted that Wickramaratne’s actions were treacherous, given his role in the party, some believe that the invitation extended to the former parliamentarian revealed that the NPP lacked suitable persons among them to take such a high profile assignment. The question is whether Wickramaratne can pull it off or himself be overwhelmed by an utterly corrupt system that progressed over the years with the connivance of politicians.

Shammi Silva couldn’t have retained SLC leadership without contest for just over seven years sans heavy political backing. That is the undeniable truth. The latest ‘arrangement’ that compelled him to give up the hot seat about 11 months before the end of his term enabled the controversial figure to avoid investigations into past affairs. Bringing in Wickramaratne, too, seems to have the approval of Shammi Silva who proved his mettle as a shrewd negotiator.

By Shamindra Ferdinando

Midweek Review

Monks, the Law and the Future of the Buddhist Monastic Order

Published

3 days ago

2026/05/6

Sahan Weerasooriya

A file photo of some Buddhist monks, nabbed at the BIA, with narcotics, being taken to court.

As almost the whole country knows by now, a group of 22 Buddhist monks were arrested on 25 April 2026, by the Police Narcotics Bureau at the international airport in Katunayake carrying approximately 112 kilograms of Kush, a high-grade, potent strain of cannabis and Hashish with a street value of over LKR 1,100 million. It is supposed to be the largest drug haul of this kind at the airport and has made global news too.

Locally, and particularly on social media, it has opened a very vocal debate with two main streaks. One has already judged the monks as guilty, purely based on information and stories in free circulation on the internet. The other claims that these are not even monks, but are imposters planted to bring disrepute to Buddhism while some articulations within this streak even go to the extent of claiming government culpability, without offering an iota of evidence. Almost none of these discusses in any serious manner what this means in terms of the law of the land and its applicability to Buddhist monks, and why this level of criminality has occurred from within the clergy in the first place. Such reflection, however, is the only sensible thing that should come out of this unfortunate incident which had considerably dangerous consequences for society if the narcotics went undetected.

The law in our country seems to apply differently or at least very slowly when it comes to Buddhist monks. This suggests that they occupy some kind of undefined but privileged status above citizenship and its constituent responsibilities. People may have noticed that Buddhist monks do not stand when the national anthem is being sung even though it is standard etiquette across the world including in our country to do so. But this exception in practice does not seem to apply to other religious leaders.

When as a schoolboy in the 1980s, I asked one of my teachers, a Buddhist monk, whom I still hold in high esteem, why this was the case, his answer was, this was the tradition since the time of the Buddha. My classmates and I pointed out to him that at the time of the Buddha, there were neither nations nor national anthems, and this question would not have even arisen. But there are stories from Buddhist history and literature that might be interpreted as monks being treated differently and elevated in status even above rulers due to their spiritual attainment. But today, we are not dealing with remnants of a distant history and belief, but the present in vastly transformed social and legal conditions.

Obviously, this is a tradition born out of wrongful and selective interpretation of respect and veneration, and not a formal legal exemption. Partly, that veneration comes from narratives in Buddhist literature, such as the incident involving Emperor Asoka and the seven-year-old novice monk, Venerable Nigrodha, who it is said to have sat on the emperor’s throne, when invited to be seated. Whatever the actual sources of this veneration are, what it does in contemporary times, is to set apart Buddhist monks symbolically from other citizens with the indication that the law of the land applies differently to them and that too, favourably. In practice, unfortunately, this becomes a cover within which errant individuals can hide from the long arm of the law as well as common sense and ethics that apply to all others.

The cultural and political logic behind this practice assumes that Buddhist monks are beyond and above the law, which is meant for the laity, and that such noble individuals will not do anything wrong. But even in the time of the Buddha itself, this was not a fact as Buddhist history explains well. It is precisely this cultural logic that led some commentators to use two interesting words to describe the 22 monks arrested at the airport and another who was arrested later who was to be the recipient of the drugs. One word is chiwaradhaarin,

literally meaning those wearing robes without implying their possible belonging to any local ecclesiastical order. In contemporary usage, it is also a somewhat insulting term. The other word is, bhikshu prathirupakayin, literally meaning people masquerading as monks. The whole point here was to delink these errant monks from monkhood and therefore from Buddhism itself because the alleged crime was too serious.

The Mahanayaka Theras of the Siyam, Amarapura, and Ramanna chapters issued a statement on 26 April 2026, just one day after the arrests, referring to the arrested as bhikshu prathirupakayin (people masquerading as monks) who were misusing the robe and noted these acts were against Buddhism and called for the suspects to be duly punished and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. On 28 April, the President met the Mahanayaka Theras and other senior monks to discuss the fallout and possible future action including closer supervision of monks within the order. Ideally however, neither this statement nor the meeting with the President was necessary if monks were treated as a matter of routine like normal citizens when they violate the law of the land. It is precisely based on this principle that the police arrested them in the first place. But there is no doubt they receive special treatment everywhere in the country, including in the airport.

It is this sense of privilege under the law that needs to end. When I say this, I am not talking of individual respect to monks people might have, based on their knowledge of the dhamma, including myself. That is a matter of individual preference. I also do not mean disciplinary supervision, investigation of institutional malpractices and disciplinary or vinaya breaches and punishments which can be carried out by the religious organisations themselves if they have a workable system. But if monks, like any other citizen, violate the law of the land whether it is drug trafficking, rape, child abuse, financial irregularities, instigating violence and so on, then, they cannot be offered special treatment or leniency. They must be held accountable and prosecuted, but fairly, like all of us deserve. No exceptions can be made.

The sheer noise of the local debate also has not posed yet another pertinent question that is important in this context. That is, how has it become possible for monks to engage in such obviously illegal acts with massively negative consequences for the society which they are supposed to serve selflessly? What has gone wrong, where and why?

Ven. Gurugoda Siriwimala made the following observations in a Facebook post in Sinhala on 27 April, which outlines the prevailing situation very rationally and clearly:

“The Bhikkhu Sasana (The Buddhist Monastic Order) in Sri Lanka is part of the country’s own decline. When a nation falls into decay, it is impossible for one specific segment within it to remain unaffected. The most tragic aspect of this is that in a country like Sri Lanka, where the cultural fabric is heavily built upon religion, the clergy—who ought to be the ultimate role models—have descended into such a state of degeneration.

The Monastic Order in Sri Lanka has become mere puppets of political parties and the media. For ordinary monks like us—who travel in public buses and subsist on the alms provided by ordinary people—it has become a matter of such shame that we feel like we must hide our faces. But these are not issues to monks who hardly walk in the streets, who constantly hold press conferences and utter foolhardy things from political stages.

Political parties in Sri Lanka have divided the clergy among themselves, maintaining a group of prominent monks who would act according to party agendas. We see even at this very moment how they are being manipulated like puppets. A group of hollow, senseless fools with no spiritual sensibility whatsoever are making a mockery of themselves in front of the whole country by holding press conferences morning and night. These monks lack education; they possess no understanding—either at a national or international level—of the subjects they speak about …”

Ven. Siriwimala’s articulation is the clearest explanation of what is happening in the Buddhist monastic order that I have read in recent times. What is even more important is that it has come as a self-reflective critique from within. The drug-carrying monks are not an unusual occurrence or an anomaly when it comes to drug trafficking in the country in general or reported malpractices involving some other monks on numerous other occasions. According to publicly available reports, some monks have repeatedly insulted minority religious practices and sentiments. One example of this is the current case in which indictments have been served against one of these monks for a case from 12 years ago. His discourses of violence are matters of public record as are the records of others. Sexual violence and child abuse involving some other monks have also come to the forefront on and off including the case of a monk who was found guilty of multiple counts of sexual assault by the Isleworth Crown Court in London in 202 and placed on the UK Sex Offenders Register for life even though he is running a school close to Colombo. There are many such cases circulating in public discourse, but not all of these have been prosecuted. Much has been silenced by inaction.

As Ven. Siriwimala has rightly pointed out, many monks have become problematic mouthpieces for political parties and political interests. Even the manner of their public articulation and behaviour as well as the nature of political involvement have become shameful, to put it mildly. But almost none have faced consequences within the ecclesiastical order of institutional Buddhism.

What this overall situation has done is to bring the Buddhist ecclesiastical order into needless disrepute. And much of this has happened due to the unfortunate silence of the Mahanayaka Theras and other senior prelates when they should have campaigned for reform within their monastic orders and paved the path towards prosecution in the same way they have done in the context of the recent drug interdiction. Seen in this sense, the present issue is nothing new. It is merely one of the more visible examples of a much deeper malaise.

Whenever I hear of these issues and the relative silence from within the monastic order, I am constantly reminded of the Buddha’s own words in Aṅguttara Nikāya (Numerical Discourses) and particularly in Anāgatabhaya Sutta (Discourse on Future Dangers). The ‘future dangers’ that would lead to the corruption of the Sangha and the disappearance of the Saddhamma (True Dhamma) the Buddha articulated include the following, all of which have to do with monks: 1. Lack of training and discipline among monks and the resultant consequences; 2) consequences of monks stopping paying attention to the profound teachings of the Dhamma; 3) monks focusing on excessive materialism and luxury and distancing themselves from practices such as meditation and seeking liberation; 4) the emergence of conflict and factionalism as a result of which monks becoming argumentative and using the Dhamma as a weapon to attack one another rather than as a means to liberation; 5) all this would finally lead to the corruption of the teachings of the Buddha and monks would end up teaching what is not the Dhamma but present it as the Dhamma and will teach what is not the Vinaya but present it as the Vinaya.

Is it not this that is happening today? Aren’t the kind of examples of malpractices I have outlined above indicative of this situation which the Buddha himself foresaw in his own lifetime? If the April 2026 drug bust is to serve a purpose for the future, it should happen at two levels: 1) the government and the laity should not treat monks as privileged when they engage in wrong-doing and violate the law of the land. The government should make it very clear formally that the law enforcement and judicial systems must fully prosecute violators of the law without any exceptions; 2) Leaders within the Buddhist monastic order including the Mahanayaka Theras and other senior prelates as well as their lay supporters should establish and empower an urgent system of internally addressing issues within their own orders and organisations, which should include the identification of wrong doers on the basis of specific ecclesiastical or legal violations and their expulsion from their monastic orders. There should not be any exceptions.

If this bare minimum can be achieved without delay and that too with honesty, then, we can imagine a more sanguine future where Buddhism can play the role it is supposed to. If it cannot be done, then, the future will be what the Buddha has already predicted.