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An untold history of Sri Lanka’s Independence

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By Uditha Devapriya

In Sri Lank, as in every other colonial outpost, resistance to foreign domination predated Western intervention by well more than two centuries. Surviving numerous onslaughts of South Indian conquest, the Anuradhapura kingdom gave way to the Polonnaruwa kingdom in the 11th century AD. The latter’s demise 200 years later led to a shift from the country’s north to the north-west, and from there to the south-west. It was in the south-west that the Sinhalese first confronted European colonialism, a confrontation that pushed the Kotte and the Sitava kingdoms to the last bastion of Sinhalese rule, Kandy.

The shift to Kandy coincided with the commencement of Portuguese rule in the island. Both Portuguese and Dutch officials emphasised, and sharpened, the line between the Maritime Provinces and the kanda uda rata. The Sitavaka rulers, in particular Rajasinghe I, had fought both Portuguese suzerainty and Kotte domination. These encounters more or less breathed new life into the country’s long history of resistance to foreign rule.

The Kandyan kings inherited this legacy and imbibed this streak. But under them resistance to colonial subjugation acquired a new logic and a fresh vigour. That was to define the island’s struggle against imperialism for well more than three centuries.

Sri Lanka’s confrontations with European colonialism took place in the early part of what historians call the modern period. The social, political, and economic transformations inherent in this period had a considerable impact on the trajectory of European imperialism and anti-imperialism. For that reason, any examination of Sri Lanka’s fight against colonial rule and its eventual independence must evaluate a broad array of historical trends. While the island’s lunge into statehood in 1948 followed a long period of peasant, elite, and radical struggles against foreign domination, the analysis would be incomplete without reference to how European colonialism itself influenced the course of such struggles.

The period between the British annexation of the island and the declaration of independence (1815-1948) unfolded in four successive but interrelated stages. In the first stage between 1815 and 1848, British colonialism was compelled to reckon with the reality of an unending series of peasant uprisings, beginning in Uva-Wellassa in 1817 and culiminating in Matale three decades later. In keeping with similar insurrections in other colonial societies, these were essentially Janus-faced: on the one hand, they sought liberation for a repressed group, the Kandyan peasantry, while on the other they envisaged a return to a pre-colonial polity. Yet, whatever their motives, they wanted to free the country of foreign rule.

The British government realised too late, the folly of assuming that its political-military grip over the island would weaken, and prevail over, peasant resistance. Since the annexation of 1815, the colonial government had drawn and redrawn the country’s borders, breaking up the former Kandyan kingdom into Central and North-Western provinces and separating the Kandyan kingdom from its Sabaragamuwa and Wayamba peripheries. With these measures, officials hoped for the breakup of Kandyan unity. The aim of these processes, notes K. M. de Silva, was “to weaken the national feeling of the Kandyans”.

However, for obvious reasons, none of these reforms could quieten or dispel the spirit of resistance among the peasantry. The Kandyan peasantry never accepted the notion of Sri Lanka as a unitary and united administration overseen by the colonial government. Indeed, when the subject of constitutional reform came up in the 1920s, the Kandyan delegation demanded federal autonomy, predating Tamil nationalist claims for a separate homeland by three decades. This showed very clearly that the British policy of amalgamating the Kandyan provinces with the rest of the country had not really worked out.

To complicate matters further, while dealing with peasant rebellions colonial officials had to put up with the growth of an assertive, and often radical, middle-class. To give one example, the Matala Uprising was never limited to Matale and Kurunegala: it erupted in Colombo as well, where Sinhalese, Tamil, and Burgher middle-classes protested the government’s tax policies. K. M. de Silva observes that attempts by these middle-classes to influence Kandyan agitation “achieved little impact.” Yet that such an attempt was made at all showed that the colonial government had to reckon with two distinct dissenting groups.

The middle-classes may not have been revolutionaries, but as their interventions during the Matale Uprising showed, they could combine their dissatisfaction with the way things were with popular hatred of the government, to make their own demands. As a way of resolving this issue, between 1848 and 1870 – the second of the four periods pertinent to this essay – the colonial government began hiring and empowering a subservient elite, drawn from “the second echelon of the Kandyan nobility” as well as a low country bourgeoisie.

Newton Gunasinghe has noted the paradox underlying these reforms. While putting an end to the monopoly of the Kandyan aristocracy, the British government reactivated the very social relations that had undergirded traditional Kandyan society. By reviving rajakariya in modified form, feudal production relations in temple lands, and a network of gamsabhas, colonial authorities grafted archaic social customs and practices on what was, essentially, a capitalist mode of production. This had the effect of building up a class of subservient elites and reducing the revolutionary potential of the peasantry.

For a while, the strategy worked. However, while it kept the Kandyan peasantry in check and in control, it backfired when the same intermediate elite the government had employed to their ranks began demanding further reforms.

Here it’s important to clarify exactly what these elites wanted. In rebelling against the government, neither the newly co-opted aristocracy nor the middle-classes promoted the overthrow of the British government. They did not want a radical transformation of colonial society, largely because by then they had grown too dependent on that society to envisage, or desire, a Ceylon falling outside the British orbit. This is why, while clamouring for greater representation for themselves, they very carefully, and consistently, opposed the extension of the franchise. As Regi Siriwardena has noted, none of those celebrated as national heroes today – with the important exception of A. E. Goonesinha – wanted universal suffrage vis-à-vis the Donoughmore Commission. Such reforms had to be imposed on them.

Despite this, though, the British government’s policy of engaging with local elites worked fairly well. Colonial officials now had local emissaries through whom they could mediate potential peasant uprisings. Yet the policy necessitated the retention of archaic and quasi-feudal social relations, which in the long term stunted capitalist development. On the other hand, the new strategy paved the way for the revival of various art forms, most prominently the Dalada perahera. As scholars like Senake Bandaranayake have noted, the government defined the perimeters and the contours of cultural artefacts and objets d’art, ensuring that they were in line with the broader aim of legitimising colonial rule.

These reforms led, in the third period (1870-1915), to a Buddhist revival whose exponents alternated between championing opposing to and cooperation with colonial officials. These two lines were promoted, respectively, by the two Buddhist institutions of higher learning established in the late 19th century, Vidyalankara and Vidyodaya. While it’s rather difficult to draw a line between these two universities and their representatives, it is true, as H. L. Seneviratne suggests in The Work of Kings, that significant disagreements prevailed within the Buddhist clergy over the issue of British domination.

From their side, colonial authorities, especially governors like Henry Ward, William Gregory, and Arthur Gordon, sought closer cooperation with a conservative Buddhist bourgeoisie, legitimising British rule while implementing cultural and political reforms. Very often these reforms antagonised groups like Evangelical missionaries. Yet colonial officials ignored their concerns; endearing themselves to revivalists, orientalists, and moderate nationalist opinion to maintain the colonial administrative structure became the bigger priority.

The effect of these developments was to turn the Buddhist elite to the forefront of the reforms being supported by the British government. Towards the end of this period, the bourgeoisie, who were too entrenched economically in colonial rule to advocate radical change, yet too underrepresented politically to be content with the way things were, began to take the lead in these reforms through the Temperance Movement.

The Temperance Movement provided an impetus for a number of other organisations. K. M. de Silva has argued that none of them – not even the ambitious Ceylon National Association – fulfilled the aims for which they had been set up. Ranging from communal outfits like the Dutch Burgher Union to commercial groups like the Plumbago Merchants Union, these organisations, for the most, preferred gradual to radical change, dispensing with the sort of agitation politics that would come to define the Indian National Congress.

Moreover, Hector Abhayavardhana has noted that the bulk of the Sinhalese elite leadership consisted of “small men with narrow vision” who wanted to bring religion into politics. Any hopes for a multicultural alliance faded away with the establishment of Mahajana Sabhas, which campaigned for Buddhist candidates. However highly one may have thought of outfits like the Jaffna Youth Congress, the lack of enthusiasm for such alliances, among the colonial bourgeoisie, paved the way for their inevitable and tragic demise.

Meanwhile, the colonial bourgeoisie faced a more formidable foe, or competitor, in the form of nationalist firebrands like Anagarika Dharmapala. In a bid to blunt the fervour of such firebrands, who they viewed with much distaste, the Sinhalese bourgeoisie toed the Vidyodaya line, promoting change within the framework of a plantation economy while seeking more representation for themselves. This was necessitated by expedience: by the early 20th century a working class movement had begun to emerge in the country, as the Carters’ Strike of 1906 showed, and though it lacked proper leadership, it nevertheless concerned the bourgeoisie. Their rather ambivalent response to these developments had the unfortunate effect of stunting the rise of a mass struggle in the country.

The comprador bourgeoisie shot to fame, so to speak, with the 1915 riots. A point often forgotten in contemporary reconstructions of the riots is that none of the elites arrested by the British government posed a direct threat to colonial rule. As Kumari Jayawardena has pointed out, it was a case of official overreaction to the faintest threat of an anti-colonial uprising. Much like the J. R. Jayewardene government proscribing the Left after the 1983 riots, there was no link between the riots and the causes attributed to it, be it the supposed agitation of Buddhist elites or the politics of the Temperance Movement.

Kumari Jayawardena and K. M. de Silva point out that the period after the 1915 riots – the fourth period relevant to our discussion – witnessed the dulling down and fading away of the Buddhist revival. This is indeed what happened. In the person of Anagarika Dharmapala, the revival had brought together both reformist and radical streams. The Sinhalese elites, obviously cooperating with British authorities, marginalised him to the extent of excluding him from political activity. Yet Dharmapala’s departure from the island gave rise to newer parties and forms of struggle, many of them inspired by his vision. Among these, the most prominent was the Labour Party, founded in 1928 by A. E. Goonesinha.

Naturally enough, working class unrest dominated much of the post-1915 period, leading to the formation of a broad, radical Left. The newly formed Left identified the limitations of Goonesinha’s politics and sought to transcend them. To this end the establishment of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party (LSSP), in 1935, marked a pivotal turning point in the country’s lunge towards independent statehood. Envisioning a complete, radical transformation of society, its representatives and ideologues broke with the dominant political outfit of the day, the Ceylon National Congress, charting their own course.

The LSSP’s original objectives, as radical in their time as in ours, included the socialisation of the means of production, the attainment of complete independence, and the abolition of all forms of inequality, including caste. Given the state of the economy at the time – it was a plantation enclave heavily dependent on a few sectors – no other programme would have sufficed for an organisation calling for a mass struggle against colonial rule. It goes without saying that it was the stalwarts of the Marxist Left – specifically Philip Gunawardena – who first advocated complete independence for Ceylon.

In the meantime, the colonial bourgeoisie managed, rather dismally, to turn the Ceylon National Congress into a pale echo of what it had once aspired to. With the departure of Ponnambalam Arunachalam in 1921, there came an end to an era where, as K. M. de Silva and Hector Abhayavardhana have observed, Sinhala and Tamil communities constituted in unison the majority of the country. In the hands of a predominantly Sinhalese bourgeoisie the Congress became a little more than a communal organisation, a point reinforced by the decision of its leaders to disenfranchise estate Tamils. In this they were occupied more than anything else with the preservation of their economic interests.

All these developments led to a situation where the Left could claim, very validly, that the ruling elite had not won independence, but had secured it on a platter from Whitehall. The elite themselves were not unaware of the inadequacy of their campaign for freedom: when the masses reacted vociferously against the cosmetic reforms they had obtained from the British government, the Congress bourgeoisie quickly went back and pressed for what was being demanded. Yet tied to three agreements which made the defence, foreign policy, and civil service blanks of the government subservient to British interests, Ceylon could become free only through a radical transformation of its political structures.

In breaking off all remaining ties with the colonial government, the 1972 Constitution sought to give effect to such a transformation. By then even the Sinhalese bourgeoisie had come to realise the folly of maintaining the status quo and the inevitability of change: whereas John Kotelawala could support Ceylon remaining a Dominion, Dudley Senanayake could a decade later support the idea of it becoming a Republic within the Commonwealth.

I believe we need a new account of our country’s emergence as an independent state. The accounts we have at present, barring very few, glorify one set of leaders over all others, marginalising and excluding everyone else. Conventional narratives depict the colonial elite as national heroes. This was not always so, though important differences did exist within the bourgeoisie. What we have learnt about our own independence is hardly adequate to the task of helping us understand our past. We badly need a new history.

The writer can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com



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Evolution of Paediatric Medicine in Sri Lanka: Honouring Professor Herbert Aponso on his 100th Birthday.

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Prof. Aponso

Professor Herbert Allan Aponso, born on March 25, 1925, recently celebrated his 100th birthday at his serene home in Kandy. Surrounded by his cherished children, the occasion not only honoured his extraordinary life but also served as a tribute from his academic colleagues, recognising his outstanding contributions to the field of paediatrics in Sri Lanka. Professor Aponso is widely recognised for his exceptional ability to combine extensive field experience with academic teaching and groundbreaking research. He emphasised social causes of disease and maintained that a disease is not just a manifestation of biological factors in the human body, but an expression of social and environmental factors as well. He encouraged his students to consider social aspects, such as family factors and poverty, in order to explain diseases, particularly childhood diseases such as malnutrition.

Born in Lakshapathiya, Moratuwa, Aponso began his academic journey at Prince of Wales College, Moratuwa, excelling in the Senior School Certificate and London Matriculation Examinations. His medical aspirations led him to the University of Colombo in 1943 and subsequently to the Medical College, where he graduated MBBS with honours in 1949. Pursuing further specialisation, he trained in paediatrics at the prestigious Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children, the largest and oldest children’s hospital in the UK, earning his DCH (London) in 1956 and MRCP (Edinburgh) in 1957.

Upon his return to Ceylon in 1958, Aponso earned his MD in Medicine and commenced a distinguished academic career. He joined the Faculty of Medicine in Colombo as a Senior Lecturer in 1963 and subsequently took on the role of Lecturer-in-Charge of Paediatrics at the University of Ceylon in Peradeniya in 1964. His career saw steady progression as he was promoted to Associate Professor in 1974 and ultimately attained the position of full Professor of Paediatrics in 1977.

Aponso was a Fellow of both the Royal College of Physicians (Edinburgh) and the Ceylon College of Physicians. He actively contributed to the Kandy Society of Medicine, where he served as President from 1974 to 1975. Beyond medicine, he played key roles in community organisations. Before relocating to Kandy, he was the president of the Moratuwa YMCA and a founding member of the Moratuwa Y’s Men Club. Later, he led the Kandy Y’s Men’s Club, which evolved into the Mahanuwara Y’s Men’s Club.

His contributions extended into promoting nutritional advancements, notably advocating for the consumption of soya. He pioneered the preparation of soya products in the kitchen of the Peradeniya Teaching Hospital and established a Soya Centre linked to the Kandy YMCA. Further showcasing his dedication to public health, he presided over the Sri Lanka Association for Voluntary Surgical Contraception and Family Health during two separate periods: 1977–1979 and 1986–1987. Additionally, he led the Sri Lanka Paediatric Association from 1976–1977.

Even after retiring from the University of Peradeniya in 1993, his impact endured. In recognition of his lifelong contributions, the university awarded him an honorary DSc in 2022. Through his tireless dedication, Professor Aponso profoundly influenced paediatric medicine in Sri Lanka, leaving an enduring legacy in both academic and medical spheres. Paediatrics as a specialised field of medicine in Sri Lanka has evolved over centuries, shaped by indigenous healing traditions, colonial medical advancements, and modern institutional developments. During colonial times under the Portuguese and Dutch, children continued to be treated through traditional medicine. The British colonial administration formalised Western medical education and established hospitals. In 1870, the Ceylon Medical College (now the Faculty of Medicine, University of Colombo) was founded, producing doctors trained in Western medicine. Paediatric care as a distinct discipline began to emerge in the early 20th century, having previously been part of general medicine. The introduction of vaccination programmes, particularly against smallpox, was a major public health advance introduced under the Vaccination Ordinance of 1886. It was during the1920s that Maternal and Child Health Clinics were setup in villages, laying the foundations for addressing child health issues in the country.

The early decades of the century saw the establishment of paediatric units in major hospitals, a critical step towards recognising and addressing the distinct medical needs of children. The establishment of paediatric units in major hospitals in Sri Lanka began in the mid-20th century, with significant developments occurring in the 1950s and 1960s. These units were set up to provide specialised care for children, addressing their unique medical needs. For example, the Lady Ridgeway Hospital for Children in Colombo became a national tertiary care centre, offering advanced paediatric services Hospitals such as the Colombo General Hospital (now the National Hospital of Sri Lanka) and played a pioneering role in creating specialised wards dedicated to paediatric care, laying the foundations for future advancements in the field.

A major turning point in the progress of paediatrics in Sri Lanka came with the appointment of Dr. C. C. de Silva as the first Professor of Paediatrics at the University of Ceylon (now the University of Colombo) in the 1950s. He was instrumental in formalising paediatric education and training, ensuring that future medical professionals were equipped with the knowledge and skills to provide specialised care for children. The introduction of dedicated paediatric courses in medical schools marked a shift from traditional general practice to a more specialised approach to child healthcare. The 1950s also saw the expansion of paediatric services beyond Colombo, with provincial hospitals establishing their own paediatric units, making specialised care accessible to a wider population.

The latter half of the 20th century witnessed remarkable progress in paediatric care, with the establishment of postgraduate training programmes aimed at producing highly qualified paediatricians. These programmes were designed to meet the increasing demand for specialised medical professionals who could address the complex healthcare needs of children. Alongside these educational advancements, there was a significant improvement in neonatal and maternal healthcare services, leading to better survival rates for newborns and reducing infant mortality. Innovations in paediatric research and healthcare policies further contributed to improvements in the overall well-being of children in Sri Lanka.

By the 1980s, paediatrics had firmly established itself as a distinct and essential medical discipline in Sri Lanka. The introduction of specialised paediatric subfields such as neonatology, cardiology, and nephrology allowed for more targeted treatment and improved health outcomes for children with complex medical conditions. The role of paediatricians expanded beyond hospital care, with increased involvement in public health initiatives such as immunisation programmes and nutritional interventions. The collaborative efforts of the government, medical institutions, and healthcare professionals ensured that paediatric care in Sri Lanka continued to progress in parallel with global medical advancements.

The development of paediatric specialization in Sri Lanka during the 20th century was a transformative journey that laid the groundwork for the country’s modern child healthcare system. From its humble beginnings in general hospital wards to the establishment of specialised training programmes and research initiatives, paediatrics evolved into a well-defined and essential medical discipline. This progress not only improved healthcare outcomes for children but also contributed to the overall strengthening of the medical field in Sri Lanka. Today, paediatrics continues to be a vital component of the healthcare system, building upon the foundations set during the 20th century to ensure a healthier future for the nation’s children. Professor Aponso was integral to the shaping of this process of development, in the 1950s and afterwards, fully engaged in every aspect. His involvement was not just academic, as he was an advisor to the government and other organisations, such as the World Health Organization, on matters about advancements in child health.

One of his most significant accomplishments was a six-year research project, generously funded by the World Health Organization (WHO) and the Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA). This initiative was integral to addressing pressing health challenges within the Mahaweli Accelerated Development Programme in its initial phase. The project focused particularly on improving healthcare services in System ‘C’ of Girandurukotte, a region populated by settlers relocated from villages inundated due to the construction of large tanks and reservoirs. The programme was launched shortly after the settlers arrived, aiming to tackle the myriad health issues they encountered as newcomers to the dry zone settlements.

Under Aponso’s leadership, ‘mothers’ clubs’ were established in hamlets in each of the four settlement units chosen for intervention. These clubs became vital community spaces where families could engage in discussions about the health problems they faced. The challenges were numerous and varied, including skin diseases, issues with drinking water, snake bites, elephant attacks, and accidents sustained while working in newly cleared paddy lands. Malaria and flu posed an especially serious threat at the time, necessitating timely treatment.

The mothers’ clubs operated as dynamic forums where settlers could participate in question-and-answer sessions about their health concerns. These sessions often culminated in providing treatments for those afflicted. The efforts were supported by Dr. (Mrs.) Fernando, a dedicated health officer in ‘System C’ of Girandurukotte, who attended most of the meetings, ensuring professional medical assistance. Professor Aponso was also assisted by lecturers at the Department of Paediatrics and a health education officer, Mrs. Alagoda, whose skills in engaging with mothers played a pivotal role in the success of the discussions and outreach programmes.

During this period, the Centre for Intersectoral Community Health Studies (CICHS) emerged under the visionary leadership of Professor Aponso. As an interdisciplinary scholarly organisation dedicated to advancing health research in Sri Lanka, CICHS made remarkable strides in the field. Among its pioneering initiatives, the sexual-risk prevention programme stood out as a milestone. This programme prioritised fostering individual competencies while shaping cultural norms that encourage healthy sexual decision-making, reflecting the organisation’s commitment to impactful research and community well-being.

As the project manager of the WHO/CIDA project, I had the privilege of working closely with Professor Aponso. I travelled frequently from my office at the Department of Paediatrics at Peradeniya to the villages, coordinating the programme’s activities. We collected household data on a sample within selected settlement units, such as Teldeniyaya, Hombariyawa, Millaththewa and Rambewa. To make a comparison, we also collected data from Mawanella rural villages, which was considered the control area. This information was then meticulously analysed using an IBM computer, a remarkable technological feat at a time when computers were a rarity.

Our research team, comprising approximately ten recent sociology graduates, including KMHB Kulasekera, RM Karunasekara and Nandani de Silva, worked tirelessly to collect, compile and interpret the data. The findings were shared at various conferences in the form of scholarly articles, providing valuable contributions to both national and global conversations on the public health challenges faced by communities in transition.

Professor Aponso’s work not only made a profound impact on the lives of those settlers but also left an indelible mark on the field of social paediatrics, demonstrating the transformative power of community-based health initiatives supported by collaborative research.

Aponso’s contributions to child healthcare, particularly in the areas of neonatology, nutrition, and medical education are important. As a student of Dr. C. C. de Silva, he was deeply influenced by his mentor’s pioneering work in paediatrics and carried forward his legacy by further strengthening child healthcare services in Sri Lanka. Dr. L.O. Abeyratne was the first Professor of Paediatrics at Peradeniya, and, upon his retirement, Professor Aponso succeeded him, continuing to advance paediatric education and healthcare in Sri Lanka. Aponso was particularly known for his work in neonatal care and the prevention of childhood malnutrition. He played a key role in introducing and promoting best practice in newborn care, helping to reduce infant mortality rates in Sri Lanka. His advocacy for improved maternal and child health policies contributed to the expansion of paediatric services beyond Colombo, ensuring that specialized care was accessible to children in rural areas as well.

Beyond clinical practice, Professor Aponso was a dedicated medical educator. He trained and mentored numerous paediatricians, helping to shape the next generation of child healthcare professionals in Sri Lanka. His work in medical research and teaching influenced advancements in paediatric care and was

instrumental in establishing higher standards in paediatric training programmes. In 2011, in commemoration of his work, Dr. Ananda Jayasinghe edited a collection of essays titled ‘In honour of Herbert Allan Aponso, emeritus professor of paediatrics, University of Peradeniya, Sri Lanka.’

Professor Aponso is a remarkable individual whose humility is as profound as his ability to listen with intention and honour to the perspectives of those around him. A celebrated expert in his field, he was elected President of the Sri Lanka Paediatric Association in 1976 and ascended to the role of full Professor of Paediatrics in 1977. His dedication extended far beyond academia—he served as President of the Young Men’s Christian Association in Kandy during three pivotal periods: 1966–1968, 1973–1975, and 1984–1988.

In 1952, he embarked on a lifelong partnership with Jayanthi Vimala Dias, now deceased, building not just a family but a legacy of intellect and social impact. Together, they raised three children—Ajith, Heshan, and Charmalie—who each distinguished themselves in society. Their home became a vibrant epicentre of stimulating dialogue and collaborative ideas, welcoming friends to partake in lively, thought-provoking discussions.

For me, the memory of Professor Aponso is forever intertwined with the dynamic days of the Mahaweli research project and CICHS initiatives, where his presence enriched every endeavour. As he continues his retirement journey, I wish him abundant health and days brimming with vitality, joy, and a renewed sense of purpose.

by M. W. Amarasiri de Silva
(Emeritus Professor of Sociology, University of Peradeniya Sri Lanka and Lecturer at the University of California, Santa Cruz, USA).

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Indian colonialism in Sri Lanka

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Following independence from Britain, both India and Sri Lanka emerged as leaders of the Non-Aligned Movement, which sought to advance developing nations’ interests during the Cold War. Indeed, the term “non-alignment” was itself coined by Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru during his 1954 speech in Colombo. The five principles of the Non-Aligned Movement are: “mutual respect for each other’s territorial integrity and sovereignty; mutual non-aggression; mutual non-interference in domestic affairs; equality and mutual benefit; and peaceful co-existence.”

Later, Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi played a key role in supporting Sri Lankan Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike’s 1971 proposal to declare the Indian Ocean a Zone of Peace at the United Nations.

Such progressive ideals are in stark contrast to the current neocolonial negotiations between the two countries.

Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s forthcoming visit to Sri Lanka on April 4, 2025, is presented as representing a mutually beneficial partnership that will bring economic development to debt-burdened Sri Lanka. However, the details of the strategic agreements to be signed during Modi’s visit remain undisclosed to the public. This opacity cannot be a good sign and should not be accepted uncritically by the media or the people of either nation.

The Indo-Lanka Agreement of July 29, 1987, was also crafted without consultation with the Sri Lankan people or its parliament. It was signed during a 48-hour curfew when former Indian Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi arrived in Sri Lanka. This agreement led to the imposition of the 13th Amendment to the Sri Lankan Constitution and established the Provincial Council system. The political framework it created continues to challenge Sri Lanka’s territorial integrity and sovereignty. Rather than bringing peace, India’s 1987 intervention resulted in one of the most violent and chaotic periods in the island’s recent history.

Will these agreements being finalised with Prime Minister Modi also lead to a period of pillage and plunder of the island’s resources and worsening conditions for its people, rather than delivering the promised economic benefits? It is crucial that any bilateral agreements include enforceable measures to stop Indian bottom trawlers from illegally fishing in Sri Lankan territorial waters. This decades-long practice has caused severe damage to Sri Lanka’s marine resources and inflicted significant economic losses on its fishing communities.

Facing an increasing Chinese presence in Sri Lanka and the Indian Ocean, India has sought to strengthen its political, economic, strategic and cultural influence over Sri Lanka through various overt and covert means. During Sri Lanka’s 2022 economic crisis, for example, India provided $4 billion in financial assistance through currency swaps, credit lines, and loan deferrals that enabled Sri Lanka to import essential goods from India. While this aid has helped Sri Lanka, it has also served India’s interests by countering China’s influence and protecting Indian business in Sri Lanka.

Prime Minister Modi’s upcoming visit represents the culmination of years of Indian initiatives in Sri Lanka spanning maritime security, aviation, energy, power generation, trade, finance, and cultural exchanges. For example, India’s Unified Payment Interface (UPI) for digital payments was introduced in Sri Lanka in February 2024, and in October 2023 India provided funds to develop a digital national identity card for Sri Lanka raising concerns about India’s access to Sri Lanka’s national biometric identification data. Indian investors have been given preferential access in the privatisation of Sri Lanka’s state-owned enterprises (SOEs) in key sectors like telecommunications, financial services, and energy. Adani Group’s West Terminal project in Colombo Port is explicitly designed to counter China’s control over Sri Lanka’s port infrastructure, including the Colombo International Container Terminal, Hambantota Port, and Port City Colombo.

India and Sri Lanka have recently agreed to resume negotiations on the Economic and Technology Cooperation Agreement (ETCA), which focuses primarily on the service sector and aims to create a unified labour market. However, Sri Lankan professional associations have raised concerns that ETCA could give unemployed and lower-paid Indian workers a competitive advantage over their Sri Lankan counterparts. These concerns must be properly addressed before any agreement is finalised.

On December 16, 2024, India and Sri Lanka signed several Memoranda of Understanding (MOUs) in New Delhi to enhance cooperation in defense, energy, and infrastructure development. These include plans for electricity grid interconnection and a multi-product petroleum pipeline between the two countries. Building on these agreements, construction of the Sampur power plant in Trincomalee is expected to begin during Prime Minister Modi’s April visit.

The Sampur power plant project, combined with India’s takeover of the Trincomalee Oil Tank Farm, represents a significant step toward integrating Sri Lanka into India’s national energy grid. This development effectively brings Trincomalee’s strategic natural harbour – often called the “crown jewel” of Sri Lanka’s assets – under Indian control, transforming it into a regional energy hub. In 1987, during India’s military intervention in Sri Lanka, New Delhi pressured Colombo into signing a secret agreement stipulating that the British-era Trincomalee oil tank farm would be jointly developed with India and could not be used by any other country.

While India promotes its energy interconnection projects as enhancing regional energy security, recent experiences in Nepal demonstrate how electricity grid integration with India has made Nepal dependent on and subordinate to India for its basic energy needs. Similarly, Bangladesh’s electricity agreement with the Adani Group has created an imbalanced situation favouring Adani over Bangladeshi power consumers. What collective actions could Sri Lanka and other small nations take to avoid such unequal “energy colonialism” and protect their national security and sovereignty?

India’s emergence as a superpower and its expansionist policies are gradually transforming neighbouring South Asian and Indian Ocean states into economically and politically subordinate entities. Both Sri Lanka and the Maldives have adopted “India First” foreign policies in recent years, with the Maldives abandoning its “India Out” campaign in October 2024 in exchange for Indian economic assistance.

India’s “Neighbourhood First Policy” has led to deep involvement in the internal affairs of neighbouring countries including Sri Lanka. This involvement often takes the form of manipulating political parties, exploiting ethnic and religious divisions, and engineering political instability and regime changes – tactics reminiscent of colonial practices. It is well documented that India provided training to the LTTE and other terrorist groups opposing the Sri Lankan government during the civil war.

Contemporary Indian expansionism must be viewed within the broader context of the New Cold War and intensifying geopolitical competition between the United States and China. Given its strategic location along the vital east-west shipping routes in the Indian Ocean, Sri Lanka has become a pawn in this great power rivalry. In addition to granting China extensive control over key infrastructure, Sri Lanka has signed the Acquisition and Cross-Servicing Agreement (ACSA) and Status of Forces Agreement (SOFA) with the United States, effectively allowing the use of Sri Lanka as a U.S. military logistics hub. It was reported that during a visit to Sri Lanka in February 2023, Victoria Nuland, former Under Secretary of State for Political Affairs of the United States strongly suggested the establishment of a joint US-Indian military base in Trincomalee to counter Chinese activities in the region.

As a member of the Quadrilateral Security Dialogue (QUAD) – a strategic alliance against Chinese expansion that includes the United States, Australia and Japan – India participates in extensive QUAD military exercises like the Malabar exercises in the Indian Ocean. However, India’s role in QUAD appears inconsistent with its position as a founding member of BRICS (Brazil, Russia, India, China, South Africa), which was established to promote the interests of emerging economies and a multipolar world order. Unfortunately, BRICS appears to be replicating the same patterns of domination and subordination in its relations with smaller nations like Sri Lanka that characterise traditional imperial powers.

India presents itself as the guardian of Buddhism, particularly in its relations with Sri Lanka, to foster a sense of shared cultural heritage. However, it was Sri Lanka – not India – that preserved the Buddha’s teachings as they declined and eventually disappeared from India. Sri Lanka maintained the Buddhist tradition despite seventeen major invasions from India aimed at destroying the island’s Buddhist civilization.

Even today, despite its extensive influence, India has not taken meaningful steps to protect Buddhist temples and archaeological sites in Sri Lanka’s north and east from attacks by Tamil separatist groups. Instead, India appears focused on advancing the concept of Akhand Bharat (Undivided India) and Hindu Rashtra (Hindu Nation), which seeks to incorporate neighboring countries like Sri Lanka into a “Greater India.” The promotion of the bogus Ramayana Trail in Sri Lanka and the accompanying Hinduization pose a serious threat to preserving Sri Lanka’s distinct Buddhist identity and heritage.

Indian neocolonialism in Sri Lanka reflects a global phenomenon where powerful nations and their local collaborators – including political, economic, academic, media and NGO elites – prioritize short-term profits and self-interest over national and collective welfare, leading to environmental destruction and cultural erosion. Breaking free from this exploitative world order requires fundamentally reimagining global economic and social systems to uphold harmony and equality.

In this global transformation, India has a significant role to play. As a nation that endured centuries of Western imperial domination, India’s historical mission should be to continue to lead the struggle for decolonization and non-alignment, rather than serving as a junior partner in superpower rivalries. Under Mahatma Gandhi’s leadership, India championed the worldwide movement for decolonization and independence in the modern era.

Upholding the principles of the Non-Aligned Movement could forge a partnership benefiting both nations while preserving Sri Lanka’s independence and Buddhist identity. Otherwise, the New Cold War will continue to trample local sovereignty, where foreign powers vie to exploit the island’s resources, subjugate local communities and accelerate environmental and cultural destruction.

by Dr. Asoka Bandarage

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Batalanda Skeletons, Victims’ Sorrows and NPP’s Tasks

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Batalanda memories still torture them

Few foresaw skeletons of Batalanda come crashing down in a London television interview. There have been plenty of speculations about the intended purposes and commentaries on the unintended outcomes of Ranil Wickremesinghe’s Al Jazeera interview. The more prurient takes on the interview have been about the public dressing down of the former president by the pugnacious interviewer Mehdi Hasan. Only one person seems convinced that Mr. Wickremesinghe had the better of the exchanges. That person is Ranil Wickremesinghe himself. That is also because he listens only to himself, and he keeps himself surrounded by sidekicks who only listen and serve. But there is more to the outcome of the interview than the ignominy that befell Ranil Wickremesinghe.

Political commentaries have alluded to hidden hands and agendas apparently looking to reset the allegations of war crimes and human rights violations so as to engage the new NPP government in ways that would differentiate it from its predecessors and facilitate a more positive and conclusive government response than there has been so far. Between the ‘end of the war’ in 2009, and the election of President Anura Kumara Dissanayake and the NPP government in 2024, there have been four presidents – Mahinda Rajapaksa, Maithripala Sirisena, Gotabaya Rajapaksa and Ranil Wickremesinghe – and as many governments. Of the four, Ranil Wickremesinghe is the least associated with the final stages of the war and its ending. In fact, he was most associated with a failed, even flawed peace process that ultimately ensured the resumption of the war with vengeance on both sides. RW was also the most receptive to war crimes investigations even proffering that external oversight would not be a violation of Sri Lanka’s Constitution.

One school of thought about the Al Jazeera interview is that those who arranged it were hoping for Ranil Wickremesinghe to reboot the now stalling war crimes project and bring pressure on the NPP government to show renewed commitment to it. From the looks of it, the arrangers gave no thought to Ranil Wickremesinghe’s twin vulnerabilities – on the old Batalanda skeletons and the more recent Easter Sunday bombings. If Easter Sunday was a case of criminal negligence, Batalanda is the site of criminal culpability. In the end, rather than rebooting the Geneva project, the interview resurrected the Batalanda crimes and its memories.

The aftermath commentaries have ranged between warning the NPP government that revisiting Batalanda might implicate the government for the JVP’s acts of violence at that time, on the one hand, and the futility of trying to hold anyone from the then government accountable for the torture atrocities that went on in Batalanda, including Ranil Wickremesinghe. What is missing and overlooked in all this is the cry of the victims of Batalanda and their surviving families who have been carrying the burden of their memories for 37 years, and carrying as well, for the last 25 years, the unfulfilled promises of the Commission that inquired into and reported on Batalanda.

The families impacted by Batalanda gave a moving illustration of the agony they have been going through for all these years in a recent media briefing, in Colombo, organized by the indefatigable human rights activist Brito Fernando. I am going by the extensive feature coverage of the media event and the background to Batalanda written by Kamanthi Wickremesinghe in the Daily Mirror (March 20, 2025). I am also borrowing her graphics for illustration – a photograph of the media briefing and a map of Sri Lanka showing the scattered sites of mass graves – 20 in all.

“We express gratitude to this government for providing the environment to discuss and debate about the contents of this report,” said Brito Fernando, speaking for the families. After addressing Ranil Wickremesinghe’s obfuscations about his involvement, and decrying Chandrika Kumaratunga’s failure to act on the recommendations of the report of the Batalanda Commission of Inquiry she created, Mr. Fernando appealed to the present NPP government to “provide a secure environment where these victims could come out and speak about their experiences,” Nothing more, nothing less, and that is all there is to it.

Whatever anyone else might say, the victims of Batalanda and their survivors have vindicated the NPP government’s decision to formally table the Batalanda Commission Report in parliament. As for their continuing expectations, Brito Fernando went on say, “We have some hopes regarding this government, but they should walk the talk.” Mr. Fernando suggested that the government should co-ordinate with the UNHRC’s Sri Lanka Accountability Project that has become a valuable resource for preserving evidence and documentation involving human rights crimes and violations over many decades. In addition, Mr. Fernando pointed out that the grieving families have not been involved in the ongoing excavations of mass graves, and they are anxious to receive the remains of their dear ones after their identity is confirmed through DNA analyses. Nor has there been any sign of legal action being taken against any of the suspects connected to the mass graves.

The map included here shows twenty identified mass graves spread among six of the country’s nine provinces. There could be more of them. They are a constant reminder of the ravages that the country suffered through over five decades. They are also a permanent source of pain to those whose missing family members became involuntary tenants in one or another mass grave. The families and communities around these mass graves deserve the same opportunity that the impacted families of Batalanda have been given by the current exposure of the Batalanda Commission Report.

The primary purpose of dealing with past atrocities and the mass graves that hold their victims is to give redress to survivors of victims, tend to their long lasting scars and reengage them as free and full members of the community. Excavation and Recovery, DNA Analysis and Community Engagement have become the three pillars of the recuperation process. Sri Lanka is among nearly a hundred countries that are haunted by mass graves. Many of them have far greater numbers of mass graves assembled over even longer periods. Suffering and memories are not quantitative; but unquantifiable and ineluctable emotions. The UN counts three buried victims as a mass grave. Even a single mass grave is one too many.

To do nothing about them is a moral and social copout at every level of society and in the organization of its state. Normalising the presence of mass graves is never an option for those who live around them and have their family members buried in them. Not for them who have built up over centuries, emotional systems of rituals for parting with their beloved ones. And it should not be so for governments that would otherwise go digging anywhere and everywhere in pseudo-archaeological pursuits.

Mass graves are created because of government actions and actions against governments. But governments come and go, and people in governments and political organizations change from time to time. There is a new government in town with a new generation of members in the Sri Lankan parliament, and it is time that this government revisited the country’s past and started providing even some redress to those who have suffered the most. The families of the Batalanda victims have vindicated the NPP government’s action to officially publicise the Batalanda Commission Report. The government must move on in that direction ignoring the carping of critics who selectively remember only the old JVP’s past.

There is more to what the government can do beyond mass graves. The Batalanda Commission Report is one of reportedly 36 such reports and each Commission has provided its fact findings and recommendations. Hardly any of them have been acted upon – not by the governments that appointed them and not by the governments that came after and created their own commissions. The JVP government must seriously consider creating a one last Commission, a Summary Commission, so to speak, to pull together all the findings and recommendations of previous commissions and identify steps and measures that could be integrated into ongoing initiatives and programs of the government.

The cynical alternative is to throw up one’s hands and do nothing, similar to cynically leaving the mass graves alone and doing nothing about them. The more sinister alternative was what Gotabaya Rajapaksa attempted when he appointed a new Commission of Inquiry to “assess the findings and recommendations” of previous commissions. That attempt was roundly condemned as a witch hunt against political opponents set up under the 1978 Commissions of Inquiry Act that was specifically enacted to enable the targeting political opponents under the guise of an inquiry. Repealing that act should be another consideration for the NPP government.

I am just floating the idea of a Summary Commission as a potential framework to bring positive closure to all the war crimes, emblematic crimes and human rights violations that have been plaguing Sri Lanka for the entire first quarter of this century. It is a political idea befitting the promises of a still new government, and one that would also be a positive fit for the government’s much touted Clean Sri Lanka initiative. For sure, it would be moral cleansing along with physical cleansing. A Summary Commission could also provide a productive forum for addressing the pathetic dysfunctions of the whole law and order system. The NPP government inherited a wholly broken down law and order system from its predecessors, but its critics suddenly see a national security crisis and it is all this government’s fault.

More substantively, a Summary Commission could tap into the resources of the UNHRC in collegial and collaborative ways without the hectoring and adversarial baggage of the past. These must be trying times for the UNHRC, as indeed for all UN agencies, given the full flight of Trumpism in America and its global spill over. Sri Lanka is one of a handful of countries where UNHRC professionals might find some headway for their mission. And the NPP government could be a far more reliable partner than any of its predecessors.

by Rajan Philips

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