Features
Back in Colombo, Indo-Lanka relations and JRJ making friends with Rajiv Gandhi
Dixit factor, Lakshman Kadirgamar and Bangalore SAARC Summit
(Excerpted from volume ii of the Sarath Amunugama autobiography)
My far-reaching decision to come back to Sri Lanka entailed making several changes regarding personal affairs. Once again my family was to be broken up with my wife and children remaining in Paris. When I told JRJ and Gamini Dissanayake of this dilemma, JRJ directed that my wife should be employed in the Sri Lanka embassy in Paris. He asked WT Jayasinghe to effect this decision immediately.
Hameed was not happy that he was bypassed but there was nothing he could do. He contented himself by saying that this was another appointment for Harispattuwa as we were registered voters in his electorate. He had infiltrated several applicants from Harispattuwa to the foreign office and was keeping a tally of the jobs given. My wife Palika proved to be one of the best officers in the Paris office and was praised for her services by Anura Bandaranaike in Parliament, even though he was in the Opposition at that time.
My younger daughter Varuni suddenly decided to come back with me and she rejoined Ladies College in the University Entrance class. The elder daughter Ramanika stayed behind with her mother as she was in the final years for her Bachelor’s degree. It also meant that we had to give up the apartment in Rue Jean Daudin and move to another approved by our embassy in Rue Cambron, which was familiar territory as we had been regular patrons of the Cambodian restaurant which was next door to this new apartment.
It overlooked an Accor Hotel and many of our friends including Lester and Sumitra Pieris stayed there to be in close proximity to our apartment. There was the usual hassles with the FO which resented my wife an ‘outsider’ being in charge of a mission and as usual `leaked’ information to the Opposition, but Anil Moonesinghe whom they contacted gave them short -hrift as did his leader Anura Bandaranaike. I moved back to my house in Siripa Road and Varuni entered the Ladies College boarding but came home for weekends.
Sinhala sentiments
The President was under great pressure at this time from the Sinhala majority which was indignant at the apparent inability of the Government to control the growing LTTE threat. The army which was led by commanders who were more inclined to ceremonial duties and had little or no battlefield experience in their days as subalterns could not cope with the situation developing in the north where the India trained guerillas of the LTTE were able to strike at will.
To make matters worse the refugees from July 1983 were not only strengthening the fighting force of the Tamils but also intervening in the West to hasten arms procurement and weapons training for the LTTE. Douglas Devananda told me many years later that their London contacts with the PLO helped them to train with the George Habash group in Lebanon
Two new developments boded ill for our security forces and JRJ. One was the expansion of the battleground to the Eastern province, leading to the depopulation of the area by the Sinhalese and Muslims. A reign of terror was unleashed against the Sinhala and Muslims so that the Tamils who were not in the majority could dominate the province militarily. Our armed forces were pushed to a situation where they could not hold the North and East simultaneously. When pressed in the North the LTTE could summon their eastern cadres to come to their rescue.
The second distressing development was the escalating attacks on innocent civilians who lived in land settlement schemes and buffer areas between Sinhalese and Tamils. These developments dented JRJs image among the Sinhalese and Muslims. It was reflected in the growing feeling among UNP parliamentarians that they should align themselves with hard liners on this issue, like the PM and Athulathmudali.
Unlike in his first term, JRJ felt that such undercurrents were at work if not against him and his advisors, it least in seeking alternative paths to satisfy their voters who were being subjected to a barrage of anti Tamil propaganda by the Sinhala media. JRJ was not a man to be easily cowed but he now had to use all his experience to attempt to control the situation which was fast deteriorating. Having met and liked Rajiv during his visit to New Delhi for the Independence commemoration, he was looking forward to his ‘tete a tete’ with the Indian PM in Bangalore in November at the SAARC meeting of 1986.
Oxford
The forthcoming meeting of SAARC attracted considerable interest not only in the region but also among political scientists worldwide. When in Paris I received an invitation from a study group in Oxford University to represent Sri Lanka at a seminar held in St Catherine’s. Scholars from the South Asian region either researching at Oxford or in ‘think tanks’ in their own countries were invited for a two-day seminar on SAARC.
My invitation came because in India, and perhaps in the other SAARC countries, my involvement in the negotiations was beginning to be known. I and my wife were housed in a pension near the College and we had dinner with Richard Gombrich and his Bengali wife Sumjukta who herself was a notable scholar. Off the seminar I met several young students from Sri Lanka including Saman Kelegama who took us for cakes and tea at the famous bookshops in town.
Much of the discussion in Oxford revolved round the changes in policy, particularly foreign policy, initiated by Rajiv Gandhi. All agreed that unlike other regional organizations like ASEAN and the EU where member states were evenly balanced, India dominated SAARC in population, economic growth and military might. Thus attention had to be drawn to India’s ‘hub status’ in discussing SAARC. The Oxford meeting was a good opportunity to understand the changes underway in India and I was dismayed to find that our foreign policy establishment did not analyze the nuances of this transformation.
On the other hand, since JRJ had taken personal control of directing foreign policy without much input from our foreign service, a wider understanding of India’s concerns was not forthcoming since many of the Indian criticisms tended to focus on JRJ’s personal predilections and intervention. His reading of the role of the US and pro-US countries like Pakistan and Israel in the region was the very issue that was being highlighted in New Delhi. These widening gaps in perceptions which were not properly analyzed at that time, became clearer with the arrival of the new Indian High Commissioner Mani Dixit in 1986 in Colombo with instructions from Rajiv Gandhi himself.
Mani Dixit
It was during the worst period of Indo-Lankan misunderstandings that Mani Dixit, who was considered to be a tough Foreign Service officer, arrived in Colombo. He had previously served in `hot spots’ like Afghanistan and Pakistan and was sent to negotiate the new Rajiv policy towards Sri Lanka. He had a reputation an official who acted as a pro-consul in the countries he served in. I was one of the very few Sri Lankans who knew Dixit before he was assigned to Colombo. He and Kaul were the two senior Foreign Service officials who served in the Indian delegation led by Parathsarathy to the IPDC (International Programme for Development Communications).
Dixit was a hard working but brusque diplomat who was totally committed to achieving Indian objectives. His aggression was perhaps a reaction to his small stature. Though he was a Dixit by virtue of his mother’s second marriage, Mani was actually a south Indian, a fact which may have been used by Delhi to allay Tamil fears that with the departure of Parathasarathy and Venkateshwaran they were losing their winning cards.
In his book `Assignment Colombo’ Dixit writes that JRJ asked him to discuss the modalities of the Indo-Lanka agreement with Gamini Dissanayake and his ‘intellectual friend Amunugama’ which shows that the President was ready for a more conciliatory approach to India. Dixit who had been a journalist, has written, after retirement, about the rights and wrongs of the Indian intervention, or from our point of view interference, in the affairs of Sri Lanka which had such dire consequences for JRJ and indeed the future of Sri Lanka as a nation.
Let us look at Dixit’s version of the events that led India into her ‘Lanka adventure’ which even today has a bearing on how Sri Lankans view our giant neighbor. According to Dixit, who summed up the situation many years later, India was concerned mostly with the geo-political implications of JRJ’s foreign policy. He says “The rise of Tamil militancy in Sri Lanka and the Jayewardene government’s serious apprehensions about this development were utilized by the US and Pakistan to create a politico-strategic pressure point in the island’s strategically sensitive coast, off the peninsula of India. Jayewardene who was apprehensive of support from Tamil Nadu to Sri Lankan Tamils was personally averse to Mrs. Gandhi and was of the view that she could not control the Indian Tamil support to Sri Lankan Tamils. He established substantive defensive and intelligence contacts with the US, Pakistan and Israel”.
Looking back, this perception which was only partly true as JRJ never underestimated the role of India, and was indeed anxious to mend fences, is an indictment of the external relations capability of small Sri Lanka which should have had the capacity to clarify matters and put good relations back on track. In fact the support of the US et al referred to by Dixit was not sufficient to counter the hegemony of India leading ‘to the pathetic isolation of Sri Lanka. All those traditions of our foreign service which always looked on India with suspicion and wanted to outwit them was coming home to roost making JRJ, and the country, highly vulnerable.
All the tall talk about `containing India’ among our chattering classes was leading the country to disaster and eventual ruin. It was only the brilliance and taking of command later by Lakshman Kadirgamar that brought realism into our foreign office and banished the ‘second rate’ Kautilyas from the decision-making scene. Let us look at the other factors that had a bearing on the conflict as seen by the Indian Mandarins.
“There was the perception that if India did not support the Tamil cause in Sri Lanka and if the Government of India tried to question the political and emotional feelings of Sri Lankan Tamils, there would be a resurgence of Tamil separatism in India”. Dixit states that India did not contemplate `a break up of Sri Lanka. If India were to endorse the claim for the establishment of a separate state on the basis of ethnicity and religion causing disintegration of a neighbouring multi ethnic multi-religious and multi-lingual state, then India would find it difficult to maintain its overall unity and territorial integrity when facing the challenges of separatism in Punjab and Kashmir.”
The riots of 1983 added another dimension to India’s relations with JRJ. The anti Tamil riots of 1983 and the Sri Lankan government’s draconian response to the violence, resulting in a large number of refugees coming to India changed the content of Indian policies towards Sri Lanka. Tamil militancy received support from both Tamil Nadu and the Central Government’
Bangalore
It was in this background that JRJ prepared himself to leave for the SAARC summit in Bangalore which was held November 1986. There was much drama at this meeting which I can describe now as I was personally present as a part of JRJ’s entourage. With the President’s permission I left for New Delhi with Anura Goonesekere, the Director of Information, about a week prior to JR’s arrival in Bangalore. My plan was to lobby the media and other vital contacts so that JRJ who had many difficulties with the negotiations up to now, would get a favourable coverage.
Back in Colombo,
My main contacts were Dilip Padgoankar who by this time had been co-opted to Rajiv’s inner circle and Biki Oberoi who was a mover and shaker in the Indian capital. We were lodged in the Oberoi Intercontinental where we also met Miss Chibb who worked there. She was the daughter of Chibb who was an advisor to the Ceylon Tourist Board in the early days when JRJ was the Minister of Tourism. The Chibb family were great admirers of our President and were drafted by me to help in my campaign to `win friends and influence people’ in the Indian capital.
I can also now reveal that Miss Chibb had been wooed many years ago by Lalith Athulathmudali. Later when I mentioned our meeting to Lalith, he told me that as an Oxford undergraduate he had pursued her all over Europe and India. It was a characteristic of Lalith that he would relentlessly pursue his objective at whatever cost.
Biki and his brother-in-law Gautam Khanna immediately made a grand gesture. The Bangalore Oberoi was completed but had not been declared open. The Oberoi family decided that in the light of JRJ’s arrival they should open the hotel immediately and offer the best suite to our President. When the President and Mrs. JRJ arrived in Bangalore they were taken to the Oberoi hotel where the whole reception area was bedecked with red roses in honour of the Sri Lankan couple. JRJ was much moved by this gesture but I remember he was distracted by his wife’s illness during their stay in Bangalore. He had to interrupt his negotiations to go to his wife’s bedside from time to time. It was then that I saw the depth of love and concern that he had for his wife.
The Bangalore meeting was crucial in the light of subsequent events and needs to be described by me as a bystander. Firstly, the opening session was a great triumph for JRJ. He had crafted his speech carefully for Rajiv’s ears. He dwelt at length on his love of India and his memories of Nehru and his fellow Congress leaders during the pre-Independence era. He clearly established himself as the senior politician in SAARC, a position that the other members of the group who were wary of Indian intentions regarding their own countries, were more than happy to acknowledge.
I saw with my own eyes the deference that other leaders, including Rajiv, showed to the old man. As the host Rajiv was solicitous of JRJ’s energy levels and would get up to help him to stand and sit, which was keenly observed by the Indian bureaucrats who as mentioned earlier were apprehensive that a rapport between the two would undermine their Pro-Tamil initiatives. That was exactly what happened, and the two leaders established a trust which was seen in the crucial ‘behind the scenes’ activities that now became the main concern.
Features
Trials-at-Bar in Sri Lanka: Use and abuse
It is reported that a Trial-at-Bar is being contemplated in respect of allegations against former President Ranil Wickremesinghe regarding misuse of state resources for a visit to a British university on his return from attending sessions of the United Nations in New York and an official visit to Cuba. If this is correct, it would make legal history in our country, because there has been no previous instance of the procedure of a Trial-at- Bar being invoked against a former Head of State.
In view of the constitutional importance of the issues involved, the attempt is opportune to consider the conceptual and statutory foundations of our law relating to Trials-at-Bar, the boundaries of its application in practice, and the nature of the responsibilities attributed to the principal functionaries with regard to the conduct of these proceedings.
I. The Statutory Framework
A Trial-at-Bar is an extraordinary procedure operating over and above proceedings in regular courts exercising criminal jurisdiction at first instance. Its form is that of three judges of the High Court, sitting usually without a jury, to try an indictable offence. The main provision is contained in Section 12 of the Judicature Act, No. 2 of 1978: “Notwithstanding anything to the contrary in this Act or any other written law, a Trial-at-Bar shall be held by the High Court in accordance with law for offences punishable under the Penal Code and other laws”.
The law of Sri Lanka makes provision for Trials-at-Bar in two different contexts.
(a) Mandatory
The trial of any person for the gravest offences against the State, constituted by Sections 114, 115, and 116 of the Penal Code, must in all circumstances be held before the High Court at Bar by three judges without a jury, despite any other law. This is the effect of Section 450 of the Code of Criminal Procedure, Act No. 15 of 1979.
The gist of offences to which this provision is applicable is conspiracy or preparation to overthrow, by unlawful means, the Government of Sri Lanka. This provision was applied in the case of 24 persons alleged to have attempted a coup d’état against the Government of Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike, a year after its election in July 1960 (R v. Liyanage).
(b) Discretionary
Outside this category, where recourse to a Trial-at-Bar is compulsory, there are other situations in which, as a matter of discretion, the Chief Justice may order use of this procedure. This course of action may be resorted to “in the interest of justice and based on the nature or circumstances of the offence”.
Trials-at-Bar, which may proceed either on indictment or on an information exhibited by the Attorney-General, are required to be held as speedily as possible, and generally in the manner of a High Court trial without a jury.
The power of appointment of High Court judges conducting a Trial-at-Bar is specifically vested in the Chief Justice. The Court, once appointed, has full authority regarding summoning, custody, and bail, subject to the restriction that bail may usually be granted only with the consent of the Attorney-General.
II. Appropriate Parameters
A useful point of departure, as a means of determining the proper limits of this judicial procedure, is to examine the character of offences which have led in our country throughout the post-Independence era to the constitution of Trials-at-Bar. A classification of the decided cases during this entire span of more than seven decades is attempted here for this purpose.
(1) Murder
Several Trials-at-Bar in Sri Lanka have been concerned with charges of murder, not per se, but invariably combined with circumstances which impart to the offence the added element of exceptional public importance, in terms of grave jeopardy to established institutions, public tranquillity, or seminal values underpinning governance.
The following are examples:
(a) the murder of a High Court judge engaged in the trial of five persons accused of capital offences pertaining to trafficking in drugs (Sarath Ambepitiya);
(b) the murder of a Member of Parliament in the midst of mob violence on a street, in the throes of widespread protests aimed at bringing down the incumbent government (Amarakeerthi Athukorala);
(c) the killing of two youth while in police custody (the Angulana case);
(d) the killing of villagers by Army personnel during a public demonstration (the Rathupaswala case);
(e) the disappearance of a social activist and human rights defender (Prageeth Ekneligoda).
(2) Offences involving State security and possible contravention of International law
* charges pertaining to firearms and ammunition and their use on the high seas (the Avant Garde case).
(3) Alleged gross dereliction of duty by senior government officials, including a former Secretary to the Ministry of Defence and a former Inspector-General of Police, leading to the death of a large number of persons by explosions in public places such as churches and hotels (Easter Sunday Bombing case).
(4) Grave corruption allegations in respect of procurement or other major misdemeanours
* two Trials-at-Bar were appointed to hear cases arising from the Central Bank bond scam in 2016, alleged to involve a former Minister of Finance, a former Governor of the Central Bank, his son-in-law and others (Central Bank bond case);
* charges against a previous Minister of Health, senior officials of the Ministry, and others in connection with the procurement of substandard immunoglobulin vials, leading to deaths and grievous bodily harm (Keheliya Rambukwella);
* charges filed by the Financial Crimes Investigation Division against the Chief of Staff of a former President and a former Chairman of the Sri Lanka Insurance Corporation for alleged large-scale misappropriation of public funds (Gamini Senerath, Priyadasa Kudabalage).
(5) Sedition involving communal overtones and potential disturbance of the public peace (S.J.V. Chelvanayakam and others).
(6) Allegations relating to extra-judicial executions
* the trial of a previous Army Commander for statements made by him regarding unlawful execution of surrendering LTTE cadres (Sarath Fonseka White Flag case).
(7) Criminal defamation in volatile contexts
In 1954, in the earliest of this series of cases, allegedly defamatory remarks were published by the defendant in a newspaper known as Trine. The gist of the allegations was that Sir Oliver Goonetilleke, who had just relinquished the position of Minister of Finance to accept appointment as Governor-General, had engaged in “swindles on an international scale” (R v. Thejawathie Gunawardena).
The heinous character of the offences alleged, and the scope of their potential ramifications in all these settings, are evident at a glance. The distinguishing feature is not merely the gravity of the offence, but imputation of a wider dimension to it, typically in the form of a serious affront to the public wellbeing.
In the Thejawathie Gunawardena case, for instance, where the propriety of recourse to a Trial-at-Bar was vigorously challenged, the Supreme Court held that there was no ground for complaint because of the predominant element of public mischief apparent from the circumstances. This was due to the inflammatory content of the statements published, which could foreseeably “disturb or endanger the government” by igniting public feeling. Gravity of the allegations, from this point of view, and their probable impact on public confidence in the integrity of basic institutions of governance, were the factors relied upon to take the case out of the regular category of defamation litigation and justify use of the Trial-at-Bar procedure.
This characteristic of a high threshold of public importance, accompanied by complexity and volatility of the surrounding circumstances, is the central thread which runs through the diverse situations in which Trials-at-Bar have been constituted in Sri Lanka.
III. The Roles of Pivotal Functionaries
The principal responsibility is that of the Chief Justice and the Attorney-General. The essential nexus between their statutory functions is a salient feature of the law.
(i) The Chief Justice
In Somaratna Rajapaksa v. Attorney-General, it was clearly recognised that the repository of power to constitute a Trial-at-Bar is the Chief Justice, but subject to the requirement that an indictment or information “furnished by the Attorney-General” operates as the material basis for exercise of the Chief Justice’s authority in this regard.
An explicit trajectory is established, linking the initiative by the Attorney-General with the Chief Justice’s decision.
(ii) The Attorney-General
Action by the Attorney-General is located within the overall ambit of prosecutorial discretion vested in him in respect of a wide range of matters, including assessment of the sufficiency and probative value of evidence to warrant institution of criminal proceedings, the decision to indict, and withdrawal of a prosecution by means of the entering of a nolle prosequi. The recommendation in respect of a Trial-at-Bar falls into place within the field of this broad authority.
The crucial attribute of the Attorney-General’s functions in this area is that he acts in a quasi-judicial capacity. A basic anomaly in the role of the Attorney-General in our constitutional system is that he combines, in his office, a variety of functions and responsibilities which entail some degree of conflict with one another. Despite this lack of institutional coherence and consistency, what is beyond doubt in the present condition of the law is that, throughout the whole gamut of prosecutorial decision making, the Attorney-General is required to eschew all political and other extraneous considerations and to arrive at his decisions in a spirit of total objectivity.
This is one of the cornerstones of our system of criminal justice. Although there is a statutory choice or discretion built into the Attorney-General’s responsibility, H.N.G. Fernando C.J. has aptly commented: “Our law has conferred on the Attorney-General powers which have been commonly described as quasi-judicial and traditionally formed an integral part of the system of criminal procedure” (Attorney-General v. Don Sirisena). In similar vein, the Supreme Court, in Victor Ivan v. Sarath N. Silva, Attorney-General, observed: “The Attorney-General’s power is a discretionary power similar to other powers vested in public functionaries, held in trust for the public, and not absolute or unfettered”.
While the purview of prosecutorial discretion residing in the Attorney-General, by virtue of enacted law as well as inveterate tradition, is strikingly extensive, it is not an untrammeled power: it is not beyond the reach of the courts. In a trilogy of progressive decisions by the Court of Appeal, Sobitha Rajakaruna J., (prior to his elevation to the Supreme Court), asserted the principle that the Attorney-General’s decisions, in appropriate circumstances, are amenable to judicial review: Sandresh Ravi Karunanayake v. Attorney -General (CA/Writ/ 441/2021), Duminda Lanka Liyanage v. Attorney-General (CA/Writ/323/2022), Nadun Chinthaka Wickremaratne v. Attorney-General (CA/Writ/523/2024).
In Attorney-General v. Karunanayake, Samayawardhana J ( with the concurrence of Thurairaja and Janak de Silva JJ.) declared: “Politically motivated indictments following regime change pose a serious threat to the rule of law and public confidence in the office of the Attorney-General and the entire justice system. Judicial oversight plays a vital role in ensuring that prosecutorial discretion is exercised independently, fairly, and in compliance with the law”.
The Supreme Court of our country has shown no inhibition in directly addressing the question whether the Attorney-General has properly exercised his discretion in laying the information which served as the basis of a Trial-at-Bar.
In Thejawathie Gunawardena’s case, in proceedings before the Supreme Court, it was strenuously contended on the defendant’s behalf that the Attorney-General had acted ultra vires for a collateral or improper purpose. The submission was that the person allegedly defamed was no longer holding public office, and invocation of the extraordinary procedure associated with a Trial-at-Bar was, therefore, unjustifiable. The Supreme Court, sitting in appeal, having considered the issue in depth, rejected the submission on the ground that his tenure had been very recent, and that the proximity of his connection with the incumbent government gave rise to the likelihood of intensifying public feeling because of the volatility and range of the allegations made against him.
These trends of judicial opinion have the effect that the principle of justiciability of the Attorney-General’s initiative in this regard is firmly embedded in our law.
IV. Conclusion
Trials-at-Bar serve a salutary purpose, but within stringently circumscribed limits. The decided cases in our country, spanning more than 75 years, indicate with exemplary clarity the confines within which this extraordinary procedure has legitimacy. The essential consideration is that there should not be room for the slightest doubt that immaterial factors may have come into play in the exercise of discretion.
This far transcends the entitlement of individuals to due process and impinges upon the health and vitality of procedures central to the administration of justice. My teacher, Professor Sir William Wade, pre-eminent among exponents of administrative law in our time, who had the distinction of holding Chairs of Law successively in the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, told me that if he were asked to identify succinctly, in one sentence, the substance of the common law tradition, he would have no hesitation in replying that it consisted of robust hostility to unbridled discretion in public functionaries. Even the appearance of neglect of this rudimentary principle places in jeopardy the fulfilment of public aspirations about the quality of criminal justice.
By Professor G. L. Peiris ✍️
D. Phil. (Oxford), Ph. D. (Sri Lanka);
Former Minister of Justice, Constitutional Affairs and National Integration;
Quondam Visiting Fellow of the Universities of Oxford, Cambridge and London;
Former Vice-Chancellor and Emeritus Professor of Law of the University of Colombo
Features
Extended mind thesis:A Buddhist perspective
After listening to Prof. Charitha Herath deliver his lecture at the World Philosophy Day Conference at the University of Peradeniya and then reading his excellent article, “Buddhist insights into the extended mind thesis – some observations” published in The Island (14.01.2026) I was prompted to write this brief note to comment on the Buddhist concepts he says need to be delved into in this connection. The concepts he mentioned are prapañca, viññāṇasota and ālayaviññāṇa.
Let us look at the Extended Mind Thesis in brief. “The extended mind thesis claims that the cognitive processes that make up the human mind can reach beyond the boundaries of an individual to include as proper parts aspects of the individual’s physical and sociocultural environment” … “Such claims go far beyond the important, but less challenging, assertion that human cognition leans heavily on various forms of external scaffolding and support. Instead, they paint the mind itself (or better, the physical machinery that realises some of our cognitive processes and mental states) as, under humanly attainable conditions, extending beyond the bounds of skin and skull.
Extended cognition in its most general form occurs when internal and external resources become fluently tuned and deeply integrated in such a way as to enable a cognitive agent to solve problems and accomplish their projects, goals, and interests. Consider, for instance, how technological resources such as pens, paper, and personal computers are now so deeply integrated into our everyday lives that we couldn’t accomplish many of our cognitive goals and purposes without them (Kiverstein J, Farina M, Clark A, 2013).
It may be seen from the above that the Extended Mind Thesis is mainly concerned with human cognition. It seems that the tools that humans use to help them in the cognitive process are actually components of the extended mind. This is mentioned in Prof. Herath’s article as well. Though Buddhist theory of cognition does not imply such a relationship that involves the implements utilised in the process of acquiring knowledge, it proposes an inextricable relationship between the cogniser and the cognised. For instance, the eye-consciousness does not arise unless the object of cognition is present.
Reality of the world according to Buddhism is based on the relationship between the cogniser and the cognised. This theory is supported by the way in which Buddhism analyses the complex formed by the human personality and the world, which it does in three systems, expounding the bond between the two. First is the five aggregate analysis, second is the 12 bases (ayatana), and the third is the eighteen elements (dhatu). Whether this kind of entanglement is possible without some means of extending the mind is an interesting question.
According to Buddhism, the mind is not a substance but rather a function that depends on it. There are three terms that are used to refer to mind and possibly these may indicate different functions though they are very often used as near-synonyms. The terms are mano, citta and viññāṇa. The term mano is used to refer to the aspect of mind that functions as one of the six sense-faculties. Mano is responsible for feelings and it also coordinates the functions of the other sense-faculties. Citta generally means consciousness or combinations of consciousness and the other mental-factors, vedanā, saññā, sankāra as seen in the Abhidhamma analyses.
The term Viññāṇa means basic awareness of oneself and it is also used in relation to rebirth or rebecoming. It has a special responsibility in being the condition for the arising of nama-rupa, and reciprocally nama-rupa is the condition for consciousness in the paticcasamuppada formula. Further, the term “consciousness-element” is also used together with five other items; earth-element, water-element, fire-element, air-element and space-element which seem to refer to the most basic factors of the world of experience, indicating its ability to connect with the empirical world (Karunadasa, 2015). In these functions, consciousness may assume some relevance in the Extended Mind Thesis.
Further if we examine the role of consciousness in rebirth we find that a process called the patisandhi-viññāṇa has the ability to transmit an element, perhaps some karmic-force, from the previous birth to the subsequent birth. In these functions the enabling mechanism probably is the viññāṇasota, the stream of consciousness that Prof. Herath mentions, and which apparently has the ability to flow even out of the head and establish links with the external world.
It may be relevant at this juncture to look at the contribution made by Vasubandhu, the 4th Century Indian Buddhist philosopher. Vasubandhu’s interpretation of saṃskārapratyayaṃ vijñānam (consciousness conditioned by volitional actions) treats the stream of consciousness as the mechanism of continuity between lives. He emphasises that this stream continues without a permanent entity migrating from one life to the next. The “stream” manifests as the subject (ego) and object (external world), which are both considered projections of this underlying consciousness, rather than independently existing entities. Vasubandhu also had proposed a kshnavada (theory of moments) to explain the stream of consciousness as consisting of arising and disappearing of consciousness maintaining continuity. These propositions may lend support to the Extended Mind Thesis.
Prof. Herath has mentioned the term prapañca (Pali – papañca) which generally means concepts. In the context of the extended mind thesis it needs to be examined in relation to the Buddhist theory of perception, because the former mainly pertains to cognition. As mentioned by Prof Herath, Ven. Nanananda in his book “Concept and Reality” has discussed this subject emphasising the fact that in Buddhist literature the term papañca is used mainly in the context of sense-perception. He says that “Madhupindika Sutta” (Majjima Nikaya) points to the fact that papañca is essentially connected with the process of sense perception. According to the Buddhist theory of perception the final outcome or the final stage of the process is the formation of papañca. Following the formation of concept there is proliferation of the concept depending on the past experience the individual may have in relation to what is perceived.
This process of perception, as given inthe Madhupindika Sutta, leading to conceptual proliferation is at the beginning impersonal and in the later stages it becomes personal with the involvement of the human personality with its self-ego and craving and finally leading to total bondage. And this bondage is between the human mind and the external world. Whether this entails an extended mind needs to be researched as suggested by Prof. Herath.
The third concept that Prof. Herath referred to in his lecture is the Yogacara idea of ālayaviññāṇa. Yogacara in its analysis of consciousness has added two more types of consciousnesses to the six based on the six senses, which is the classification mentioned in Early Buddhism and the two additional ones are kleshaviññāṇa and ālayaviññāṇa. The latter is called the storehouse-consciousness as it carries the seeds of karma. It is also called the approximating consciousness as it approximates at two levels; in this birth by collection of defilements and in the next birth by carrying them across in rebirth. The latter function may be relevant to the Extended Mind Thesis as it has the ability of projection beyond the body of the present birth and transmit to the body of the next birth.
If one is interested in researching into the concept of ālayaviññāṇa one must be aware that the three masters of Yogacara, i.e. Maithreyanata, Asanga and Vasubhandhu did not agree with each other on the nature of ālayaviññāṇa. While Maithreyanata was loyal to the early Yogacara idea that appeared in Sandhinirmocana Suthra, Asanga modified it to suit his thesis of idealism. Vasubandhu, however, adhered to the views of Early Buddhism and according to Kalupahana (1992) what he in his Trimsathika describes is the transformation of the consciousness and not the eight consciousnesses in the order in which they appear in Yogākāra texts. Here one is tempted to suggest that Asang’s idealism which propounds that the external world is a creation of the mind may lend support to the extended mind thesis. Idealism in Yogacara Buddhism may be another subject that needs to be researched in the context of the extended mind thesis.
Turning to recent research there is theoretical and speculative support from quantum theory for the idea of extended consciousness, but it remains a controversial area of research within physics, neuroscience, and philosophy. Several frameworks suggest that consciousness is not confined to the brain but is a fundamental, non-local phenomenon rooted in quantum processes that may connect minds to each other or the universe at large. (Wagh, M. (2024). “Your Consciousness Can Connect with the Whole Universe, Groundbreaking New Research Suggests”. Popular Mechanics. Retrieved from https://www.popularmechanics.com/scienc)
Finally, while it may not be clear whether the Extended Mind Thesis, as proposed by A. Clark and others (2013), has anything to do with consciousness it may be worthwhile to research into this matter from a Buddhist perspective, which will have to strongly bring into contention the factor of consciousness, which perhaps may have the potential to develop into an Extended Consciousness Thesis.
by Prof. N. A. de S. Amaratunga ✍️
PhD, DSc, DLitt
Features
Why siloed thinking is undermining national problem-solving
The world today is marked by paradox. Never before has humanity possessed such extraordinary scientific knowledge, technological capability, and research capacity. Yet never before have we faced such a dense convergence of crises—climate change, biodiversity loss, pandemics, food insecurity, widening inequality, disaster vulnerability, and social fragmentation. These challenges are not isolated events; they are deeply interconnected, mutually reinforcing, and embedded within complex social, ecological, economic, and technological systems. Addressing them effectively demands more than incremental improvements or isolated expertise. It requires a fundamental shift in how we think, research, and act.
At the heart of this shift lies transdisciplinarity: an approach that moves beyond siloed disciplines and engages society itself in the co-creation of knowledge and solutions. As Albert Einstein famously observed, “We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.” The persistence of today’s global challenges suggests that our prevailing modes of problem-solving—largely mono-disciplinary and compartmentalised—are no longer adequate.
The limits of siloed knowledge
Over the past few decades, global investment in research and development has grown dramatically. Global R&D expenditure exceeded USD 3 trillion in 2022, and the worldwide scientific workforce has expanded to more than 8.8 million researchers, producing millions of academic papers annually across tens of thousands of journals. Indeed, the number of scientists has grown several times faster than the global population itself. This extraordinary expansion reflects humanity’s faith in science as a driver of progress—but it also sharpens an uncomfortable question about returns on this investment. Millions of scientists across the world produce an ever-expanding body of academic literature, filling tens of thousands of specialised journals. This disciplinary research has undoubtedly driven remarkable advances in medicine, engineering, agriculture, and information technology. The positive contributions of science to human civilisation are beyond dispute. Yet its effectiveness in addressing complex, real-world challenges has often fallen short of expectations, with impacts appearing disproportionate to the vast resources committed. Yet the translation of this vast knowledge base into tangible, scalable solutions to real-world problems remains limited.
The reason lies not in a lack of intelligence or effort, but in the way knowledge is organised. Disciplines are, after all, social constructs, each shaped by its own conceptual, theoretical, philosophical, and methodological traditions. While these traditions enable depth and rigour, they also encourage intellectual compartmentalisation when treated as ends in themselves. Modern academia is structured around disciplines—biology, economics, engineering, sociology, medicine—each with its own language, methods, reward systems, and institutional boundaries. These disciplines are powerful tools for deep analysis, but they also act as intellectual blinders. By focusing narrowly on parts of a problem, they often miss the broader system in which that problem is embedded.
Climate change, for example, is not merely an environmental issue. It is simultaneously an economic, social, political, technological, and ethical challenge. Public health crises are shaped as much by social behaviour, governance, and inequality as by pathogens and medical interventions. Poverty is not simply a matter of income, but of education, health, gender relations, environmental degradation, and political inclusion. Approaching such issues from a single disciplinary lens inevitably leads to partial diagnoses and fragmented solutions.
The systems thinker Donella Meadows captured this dilemma succinctly when she noted, “The problems are not in the world; they are in our models of the world.” When our models are fragmented, our solutions will be fragmented as well.
Wicked problems in a hyper-connected world
Many of today’s challenges fall into what scholars describe as “wicked problems”—issues that are complex, non-linear, and resistant to definitive solutions. They have multiple causes, involve many stakeholders with competing values, and evolve over time. Actions taken to address one aspect of the problem often generate unintended consequences elsewhere.
In a hyper-connected world, these dynamics are amplified. A disruption in one part of the global system—whether a pandemic, a financial shock, or a geopolitical conflict—can cascade rapidly across borders, affecting food systems, energy markets, public health, and social stability. Recent crises have starkly demonstrated how local vulnerabilities are intertwined with global forces.
Despite decades of research aimed at tackling such problems, progress remains uneven and, in many cases, distressingly slow. In some instances, well-intentioned scientific interventions have even generated new problems or unintended consequences. The Green Revolution of the 1960s, for example, dramatically increased cereal yields and reduced hunger in many developing countries, but its heavy dependence on agrochemicals has since contributed to soil degradation, water pollution, and public health concerns. Similarly, plastics—once hailed as miracle materials for their affordability and versatility—have become a pervasive environmental menace, illustrating how narrowly framed solutions can create long-term systemic risks. This gap between knowledge production and societal impact raises a critical question: are we organising our research and institutions in ways that are fit for purpose in an interconnected world?
What is transdisciplinarity?
Transdisciplinarity offers a compelling response to this question. Unlike multidisciplinary approaches, which place disciplines side by side, or interdisciplinary approaches, which integrate methods across disciplines, transdisciplinarity goes a step further. It transcends academic boundaries altogether by bringing together researchers, policymakers, practitioners, industry actors, and communities to jointly define problems and co-create solutions.
At its core, transdisciplinarity is problem-driven rather than discipline-driven. It starts with real-world challenges and asks: what knowledge, perspectives, and forms of expertise are needed to address this issue in a meaningful way? Scientific knowledge remains essential, but it is complemented by experiential, local, and indigenous knowledge—forms of understanding that are often overlooked in conventional research but are crucial for context-sensitive and socially robust solutions.
As C. P. Snow warned in his influential reflections on “The Two Cultures,” divisions within knowledge systems can themselves become barriers to progress. Transdisciplinarity seeks to bridge not only disciplines, but also the persistent gap between knowledge and action.
Learning from nature and society
Nature itself provides a powerful metaphor for transdisciplinary thinking. Ecosystems do not operate in compartments. Soil, water, plants, animals, and climate interact continuously in dynamic, adaptive systems. When one element is disturbed, the effects ripple through the whole. Human societies are no different. Economic systems shape social relations; social norms influence environmental outcomes; technological choices affect governance and equity.
Yet our institutions often behave as if these connections do not exist. Universities are organised into departments with separate budgets and promotion criteria. Research funding is allocated along disciplinary lines. Success is measured through narrow metrics such as journal impact factors and citation counts, rather than societal relevance or long-term impact.
This mismatch between the complexity of real-world problems and the fragmentation of our knowledge systems lies at the heart of many policy failures. While societal challenges have grown exponentially in scale and interdependence, organisational structures and problem-solving approaches have not evolved at the same pace. Attempting to address borderless global issues using rigid, compartmentalised, and outdated frameworks is therefore increasingly counterproductive. As former UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon aptly stated, “We cannot address today’s problems with yesterday’s institutions and mindsets.”
Transdisciplinarity and sustainable development
The United Nations Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) offer a vivid illustration of why transdisciplinary approaches are essential. The 17 goals—ranging from poverty eradication and health to climate action and biodiversity—are explicitly interconnected. Progress on one goal often depends on progress in others. Climate action affects food security, health, and livelihoods. Education influences gender equality, economic growth, and environmental stewardship.
Achieving the SDGs therefore requires more than sector-by-sector interventions. It demands integrated, cross-sectoral responses that align research, policy, and practice. Transdisciplinarity provides a framework for such integration by fostering collaboration across disciplines and sectors, and by grounding global goals in local realities.
For countries like Sri Lanka, with complex socio-ecological systems and rich cultural diversity, this approach is particularly relevant. In Sri Lanka, more than 6,000 individuals are engaged in research and development, with over 60 per cent based in universities and other higher education institutions. This places a particular responsibility on academic and institutional leaders to create environments that encourage collaboration across disciplines and with society. Policies, assessment schemes, funding mechanisms, and incentive structures within universities can either reinforce silos or actively nurture a transdisciplinary culture. Sustainable development challenges here are shaped by local contexts—coastal vulnerability, agricultural livelihoods, urbanisation patterns, and social inequalities—while also being influenced by global forces. Transdisciplinary engagement can help bridge this global–local divide, ensuring that policies and innovations are both scientifically sound and socially meaningful.
Why transdisciplinarity is hard?
Despite its promise, transdisciplinarity is not easy to practice or institutionalise. Deeply entrenched disciplinary identities often shape how researchers see themselves and their work. Many academics are trained to excel within narrow fields, and career advancement systems tend to reward disciplinary publications over collaborative, problem-oriented research.
Institutional structures can further reinforce these silos. Departments operate with separate budgets and governance arrangements, making cross-boundary collaboration administratively cumbersome. Funding mechanisms often lack categories for transdisciplinary projects, leaving such initiatives struggling to find support. Time pressures also matter: genuine engagement with communities and stakeholders requires sustained interaction, yet academic workloads rarely recognise this effort.
There are also cultural and ethical challenges. Different disciplines speak different “languages” and operate with distinct assumptions about what counts as valid knowledge. Power imbalances can emerge, with certain forms of expertise dominating others, including the voices of non-academic partners. Without careful attention to trust, equity, and mutual respect, collaboration can become superficial rather than transformative.
The way forward: from aspiration to practice
If transdisciplinarity is to move from rhetoric to reality, deliberate institutional change is required. Sri Lanka, in particular, would benefit from articulating a clear national vision that positions transdisciplinary research as a core mechanism for addressing challenges such as climate resilience, public health, disaster risk, and sustainable development. National research agencies and universities can play a catalytic role by creating dedicated funding streams, establishing transdisciplinary centres, and embedding systems thinking and stakeholder engagement within curricula and research agendas. First, awareness must be built. Universities, research institutes, and funding agencies need to invest in dialogue, training, and pilot projects that demonstrate the value of transdisciplinary approaches in addressing pressing societal challenges.
Second, leadership matters. Institutional leaders play a critical role in signalling that transdisciplinary engagement is not peripheral, but central to the mission of knowledge institutions. This can be done by embedding such approaches in strategic plans, allocating seed funding for collaborative initiatives, and recognising societal impact in promotion and evaluation systems.
Third, structures must evolve. Flexible research centres, shared infrastructure, and streamlined administrative processes can lower the barriers to collaboration. Education also has a role to play. Introducing systems thinking and problem-based learning early in undergraduate and postgraduate programmes can help cultivate a new generation of researchers comfortable working across boundaries.
Finally, ethics and inclusivity must be at the forefront. Transdisciplinarity is not merely a technical methodology; it is an ethical commitment to valuing diverse forms of knowledge and engaging communities as partners rather than passive beneficiaries. In doing so, it strengthens the legitimacy, relevance, and sustainability of solutions.
A collective learning challenge
Peter Senge once observed, “The only sustainable competitive advantage is an organization’s ability to learn faster than the competition.” This insight applies not only to organisations, but to societies as a whole. Our collective ability to learn, unlearn, and relearn—across disciplines and with society—will determine how effectively we navigate the challenges of our time.
The shift from siloed disciplines to transdisciplinary engagement is therefore not a luxury or an academic trend. It is a strategic necessity. In a world of complex, interconnected problems, fragmented knowledge will no longer suffice. What is needed is a new culture of collaboration—one that sees connections rather than compartments, embraces uncertainty, and places societal well-being at the centre of scientific endeavour.
Only by breaking down the walls between disciplines, institutions, and communities can we hope to transform knowledge into action, and action into lasting, equitable change.
A final word to Sri Lankan decision-makers
For Sri Lanka, the message is clear and urgent. Policymakers, university leaders, funding agencies, and development institutions must recognise that many of the country’s most pressing challenges—climate vulnerability, public health risks, food and water security, disaster resilience, and social inequality—cannot be solved within institutional silos. Creating space for transdisciplinary engagement is not a marginal reform; it is a strategic investment in national resilience. By aligning policies, incentives, and funding mechanisms to encourage collaboration across disciplines and with society, Sri Lanka can unlock the full value of its scientific and intellectual capital. The choice before us is stark: continue to manage complexity with fragmented tools, or deliberately build institutions capable of learning, integrating, and responding as a system. The future will favour the latter.
by Emeritus Professor Ranjith Senaratne ✍️
Former Vice-Chancellor, University of Ruhuna,
Former General President, Sri Lanka Association for the Advancement of Science
Former Chairman, National Science Foundation
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