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Buddhist theatre in South Asia and beyond

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By Syed Jamil Ahmed, PhD

Considerable research conducted by renowned Orientalists such as Moriz Winternitz, Heinrich Lüders, Arthur Berriedale Keith, Sylvain Lévi and Sten Konow between the 1880s and 1960s have established that between the 1st century CE to the 7th century CE, a tradition of Buddhist theatre flourished in South Asia. This tradition, generated by a host of Buddhist scholars and practitioners, is an important source for the study of the indigenous theatre not only of Bangladesh, but also of Pakistan and Afghanistan. The problem with Bangladesh is that very few scholars and practitioners engaged with theatre demonstrate any interest in the tradition. Consequently, the Indian State, media and academia have exerted their hold on the tradition to such an extent that the world recognises ancient Buddhist theatre in South Asia as an exclusive intellectual terrain of modern India. Although Bangladesh can lay a rightful claim to the tradition, it has failed to do so, mostly because the State, media and academia in Bangladesh are hardly enthusiastic regarding the non-Islamic past of Bangladesh. This piece presents a summary of current research on ancient Buddhist theatre in South Asia, in order to serve as a catalyst that hopefully will trigger enough interest in establishing Bangladesh’s rightful claim to its Buddhist past.

Existing evidence indicates that Aśvaghoşa (c. 80-150 CE) was not only the earliest Buddhist playwright, but also the earliest Sanskrit playwright in South Asia. He was a renowned Buddhist philosopher and poet at the court of Kushan emperor Kanişka, whose capital was situated in Puruşapura (what now is Peshawar in Pakistan). Another important playwright from the 5th century CE was Chandragomin. It is now certain that he was not only a famous Buddhist scholar-monk renowned for his work on Sanskrit grammar but also the composer of a play titled Lokānanda. As the famous Buddhist traveler-monk Yijing (I-Tsing) observed, he was from the eastern part of South Asia. Other scholars are in agreement that the eastern region referred to was ancient Bengal. Besides these two playwrights, scholars also believe that a mysterious Buddhist acharya named Rāhula composed a treatise on theatre (nāţya), which is now completely lost. It is also argued that Buddhist theatre beginning with Aśvaghoşa in the first century CE, down to Emperor Harşavardhana in the 7th century CE, was not only well-developed theoretically but was also quite popular among the people. When an exact accounting is done, the corpus of Buddhist plays is found to include the following eight texts, one extant in original, one in translation, five in fragments, while one has been completely lost. Given below is a brief account of these works.

1. Śāriputra-prakaraņa (a play in 9 acts) by Aśvaghoşa. Only fragments of the last two acts are extant. Recovered by Lüders at Turfan in Tarim Basin, in 1911, the play is based on the legend of Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana ordaining as monks under the Buddha, as related in the Mahāvagga of the Vinayapiţaka. As shown in the last two acts of the play, Śāriputra has an interview with Aśvajit, the Buddha’s first disciple. Then he engages in a conversation with his friend the Vidūşaka (jester), on the merits of the teachings of Gautama Buddha. The Vidūşaka advises Śāriputra against accepting Buddhist teachings, since Śāriputra is a Brahman and the Buddha hails from the kştriya (warrior) caste. But Śāriputra rejects the Vidūşaka’s argument on the ground that the Vaidya (physician) is capable of healing the sick despite belonging to a low social caste. Next, when he meets his dear friend Maudgalyāyana, the latter enquires as to why Śāriputra appears radiant. Śāriputra informs Maudgalyāyana about the Buddha and his teachings, and they both decide to seek refuge in Buddhism. The Buddha receives them warmly and foretells that the two will be the highest in knowledge and magic power among his disciples. At the end of the play, Gautam Buddha and Śāriputra engage in a philosophical dialogue which rejects the belief in a permanent self (ātmā).

2. Fragment of a play, possibly a nāţaka, with allegorical characters such as Buddhi (Wisdom), Dhŗti (Firmness) and Kīrti (Fame). It was found at Turfan in Tarim Basin, but the playwright’s name is unavailable. Nevertheless, because the fragment has been recovered with Śāriputra-prakaraņa and because it demonstrates remarkable linguistic similarity with the same play, it is believed that the playwright of this fragment is also Aśvaghoşa. The fragment shows the three allegorical characters conversing in Sanskrit. At one stage, the Buddha enters the stage. It is uncertain whether he engages in a dialogue with the allegorical characters, because the play is fragmented at this point.

3. Fragment of another play that appears to be a prakaraņa like the Mŗcchakaţikā by Shudraka. It was also recovered at Turfan. The author remains unknown but this too is believed to have been authored by Aśvaghoşa. The characters of the play are a heterogenous lot: a courtesan named Magadhabati, a Vidūşaka named Komudhagandha, a hero named Somadatta, a rogue named Duşţa, a prince named Dhanananjaya, a maid-servant, Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana. One scene of the play takes place at Magadhabati’s home and another at a park. The play also mentions a festival held at a hilltop.

4. Rāşţapāla-nāţaka by Aśvaghoşa, which has disappeared completely, but its existence is confirmed by references found in a Chinese translation of Sri Dharma-piţaka-sampradāya Nidāna (472 AD), titled Fu fa tsang yin yüan ch’üan, and two other Buddhist liturgical texts. The plot was possibly based on the Raţţhapālasutta in the Majjhimanikāya, showing how Raţţhapāla, after renouncing worldly life to become a monk, could not be enticed back to worldly life even with heaps of gold and alluring advances of his ex-wives. As recounted in Fu fa tsang yin yüan ch’üan, a performance of the play, in which Aśvaghoşa himself conducted the orchestra, was so successful that five hundred kştriyas renounced worldly life to become Buddhist monks. In order to make sure that such a mass exodus is not repeated, the king of Pataliputra forbade all future performance of the play.

5. Lokānanda-nāţaka by Chandragomin, a play in five acts composed in the 5th century CE. The original text in Sanskrit has disappeared. In the first half of the 14th century, the play was translated from Sanskrit into Tibetan in Kathmandu. Michael Hahn used the Tibetan version to translate it in German in 1974, and in English in 1987 as Joy for the World. The play shows how Prince Maṇicūḍa (later the king) of Sāketa, who is gifted with a benevolence-showering jewel implanted on the crown of his head, sacrifices all his possessions including his kingdom – and even his wife and son – in order to remain steadfast to his commitment to munificence. He dies when he sacrifices even the jewel implanted on his head to a wicked Brahmin, but is revived by the gods because of his commitment to munificence.

6. Nāgānanda-nāţaka, a play in five acts attributed to Emperor Harşavardhana (reigned 606 – 648 CE). It is based on King Jimutavåhana’s self-sacrifice to save the Nagas (a race of semi-divine half-serpent beings who live in the underworld). The play is still extant in original Sanskrit. Nāgānanda-nāţaka may demonstrate signs of Buddhist lineage superficially, but a close reading demonstrates that its religio-philosophical inclination is a curious blend of Hinduism and Buddhism.

7. Maitreyasamiti-nāţaka (lit. “Encounter with Maitreya”), a play in 27 acts bearing a Sanskrit title but written in the language known as Tocharian A. Quite a few fragments of the play were recovered from Turfan and Yanqi (Tarim Basin), all dated to the 8th century CE. Maitreyasamiti-nāţaka is based on Buddha Maitreya, the future saviour of the world. An Old Uyghur translation of the Tocharian text, dated to the 10th century CE, has also been recovered.

8. In 2007, fragment of an unnamed another play was recovered in Afghanistan and has been published by Uwe Hartmann. The recovered fragment shows that it was composed in Sanskrit and Prakrit, in prose as well as verse. It appears to indicate dialogue among three characters: Vidūşaka, King, and Minister.

The significance of the corpus of Buddhist plays is immense. Firstly, it indicates that the genesis of theatre in South Asia is well before the 2nd century CE, because when Aśvaghoşa emerged as a playwright at this juncture, he was already well-adapted to the craftsmanship of playwriting, and appears to have inherited a long tradition that flourished before him. Secondly, and more importantly for Bangladesh, ‘the genesis of theatre in the country can now be firmly pushed back to the 5th century CE, since we have Lokānanda-nāţaka as a piece of ‘hard’ evidence. It may be recalled that hitherto, the earliest evidence of theatre in ancient Bengal was dated to the 8th-10th century, as ascertained by the occurrence of the term ‘Buddha-nāţaka’ in a caryā song by Vīnā-pāda. Thirdly, by the 10th century CE, Buddhist theatre appears to have generated the growth of a lively world of performance not only in what today is Bangladesh, India, Pakistan and Afghanistan, but also in Central Asia. Indeed, the Silk Road was key to this transmission. As I argue elsewhere, Buddhist dramaturgy also ‘travelled’ to Tibet, where it was rejected by Vajrayana Buddhism. However, nurtured by Mahayana Buddhism, it prospered in the Tarim Basin and the adjoining oases kingdoms, where it was transmuted into Buddhist plays in Tokharian and Khotanese Saka. These plays were produced during Buddhist festivals in Khotan and Kocho, at mass public gatherings in the vicinity of temples. The Khotanese Buddhist theatre may have met with a sad demise at the hands of the Muslim Kara-Khanid rulers. Nevertheless, Tokharian Buddhist plays, possibly performed in pavilions in temple precincts, travelled on to the Northern Song empire (China), and were further transformed to give rise to zaji, and the performance pavilions such as those in temple compounds located in Shanxi and Zhejiang provinces in China. Towards the end of the T’ang period and during the political upheavals of the 10th century, when Buddhism lost favour of the state, and subsequently in early 11th century, when the Muslims began to control the Silk Road in central Asia, all traces of Buddhist plays were erased by neo-Confucianism and Taoism. Nevertheless, the performances continued to live in transmuted forms.

Laying aside the ‘scholarly’ importance for the academics to ponder over, it is important to turn to Lokānanda-nāţaka, the miracle-recounting Buddhist play from ancient Bangladesh, to recognise that its significance extends beyond that of a heritage object preserved in museums. Let us begin by acknowledging that miracles have been recounted in all major religions, such as Islam, Christianity, Hinduism, Jainism and Buddhism. It is pointless to argue about the validity of any of these miracles, for their worth are embedded deep in the belief system of the devotees. Instead, I argue that a particular significance of Lokānanda-nāţaka lies in its validity as a root paradigm. As the cultural anthropologist Victor Turner explains in Dramas, Fields, and Metaphors: Symbolic Action in Human Society, root paradigms are not univocal concepts nor stereotyped guidelines, but extend beyond the cognitive and the moral to the existential domain.

Paradigms of this fundamental sort reach down to irreducible life stances of individuals, passing beneath conscious prehension to a fiduciary hold on what they sense to be axiomatic values, matters literally of life or death. Root paradigms emerge in life crises, whether of groups or individuals, whether institutionalized or compelled by unforeseen events. One cannot then escape their presence or their consequences.

The root paradigm that Lokānanda-nāţaka posits is Maṇicūḍa’s commitment to munificence. Similar root paradigms may also be found in Raja Harishchandra’s sacrifices as projected in Hinduism and Prophet Ibrahim’s qurbani as articulated in Islam. Faced with endemic corruption in Bangladesh, to the extent that it is ranked 147th out of 180 countries in Transparency International’s Corruption Perception Index, perhaps we would do better if we draw on all the root-paradigms of munificence and sacrifices that our tradition offers us.

(The Daily Star/ANN)
Syed Jamil Ahmed, PhD is Honorary Professor at University of Dhaka and Theatre Director at Spardha: Independent Theatre Collective



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Opinion

Morning Star of Nursing Education in Sri Lanka

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Chandra

Chandra de Silva, 20th Death Anniversary

After a convulsive struggle for national liberation from British colonialism which tore the subcontinent apart, India gained its independence in 1947. Way ahead of Ceylon, on the cusp of this momentous event, it established a degree-awarding College of Nursing at the University of Delhi in 1946, a committee having visited and considered the best practices in nursing education in Canada, the USA, England and Scotland. It then carefully designed a course to meet the needs of India’s social and health requirements, and admitted its first batch of 13 students in July 1946, for a four-year BSc (Honors) degree in Nursing.

Soon after, they offered this advantage through a competitive interview to students from Ceylon.

In 1950, the year India adopted its first Republican Constitution, Chandra Samarasinghe was one of the three persons admitted to this course, and would go on to be the one who eventually introduced university education for Sri Lankan nurses in 1992, after a lifetime of campaigning.

When Chandra de Silva (nee Samarasinghe), much loved and respected by her students and colleagues alike, passed away 20 years ago on 28th January 2006, a former student wrote a moving tribute to her titled “The Morning Star of the World of Nursing Has Faded…” on the front page of the February 2006 issue of the magazine New Vision, a publication of the Graduate Nurses’ Foundation of Sri Lanka.

Describing Chandra as “the Nightingale of Sri Lanka”, a “most noble lady (Athi uththama kanthawa) filled with compassion”, “born for the good fortune of the nation” and “incomparable teacher-mother (guru mathawa) of hundreds of thousands of students”, the writer, Malini Ranasinghe, who was the President of the Graduate Nurses Foundation, confesses it is beyond her to set down in full Chandra’s life-long service of over 50 years to the profession. The magazine New Vision itself was one of Chandra’s many initiatives as was the encouragement for the Nursing Profession to obtain membership of the Sri Lanka Association of Professionals. Malini Ranasinghe promises in this heartfelt farewell, that Chandra’s legacy would be passed down the ages to each new batch of nursing students, to remain in their hearts through the course on the History of Nursing.

Chandra was Sri Lanka’s first Chief Nursing Education Officer (CNEO, now titled Director Nursing) at the Ministry of Health. She took up the pioneering role in 1967, having returned from Boston University, USA, after completing a Master’s degree in Education and Administration.

In her first year in the role, Chandra presented a comprehensive memorandum drawing the attention of the government of the day to the country’s need for a Bachelor’s degree in Nursing. She was the first to do so. It took decades before this dream came true, with Chandra having made several more proposals many years apart, before she was invited by a Canadian University in collaboration with the Open University of Sri Lanka (OUSL) to help set up the degree course in Nursing in 1992. Having spent most of her professional life in a battle to uplift the nursing profession in Sri Lanka to international standards, she was setting exam papers at the OUSL the day before she was admitted to hospital for kidney surgery, and passed away at the recovery unit. By then, she had seen not only several batches of undergraduate nurses don their robes, but also graduate nurses earn Master’s degrees with a PhD programme well on its way to being implemented.

When Delhi Built Bridges

It all started when three young ladies boarded a train with their Thomas Cooks travel documents, to Delhi in July 1950, having competed and won places at Delhi University to follow a BSc Honours degree, majoring in Nursing. Chandra Samarasinghe from Mahamaya College Kandy, dressed in a Kandyan Saree, Trixie Marthenesz from Ladies College and later Ananda College Colombo, and Shireen Packeer, also from Ananda College Colombo, in dresses, were the lucky ones selected, and became firm friends known as the “The Trio from Ceylon” at their university in India. They had “luxury accommodation” at their residential university campus at number 12, Jaswant Singh Road, New Delhi, and travelled everywhere on their bikes.

They had a blast during their four years there, not only completing their degrees but also able to experience the newly independent nation in transition, already forging a future for itself. Chandra continued to wear the Kandyan saree throughout her stay there, and when she had to introduce herself to the rest of the students, said “I am Chandra Samarasinghe from Kandy, in Lanka”, leaving a puzzled Trixie wondering why she didn’t say Ceylon.  When they left the university after four years, the Principal, Dr. Margeretta Craig, O.B.E. told them “You three Ceylonese girls have been live wires!” They got on well with the staff including the Vice Principal Dr. Edith Buchanan, a Canadian from the Canadian Faculty of Nursing, who had an interesting experience with Chandra at their first encounter. When asked to explain the meaning of the term “prone position”, Chandra, always the first to offer an answer, piped up to say somewhat indelicately, “That’s the one with the backside up!” to giggles from the class. She was soon persuaded that “face-down” was a much more decorous way of saying it.

They sang and danced in the presence of Lady Edwina Mountbatten who graced the university’s annual concerts and had their names appear approvingly in the Indian newspaper report of the event. They were invited to Rashtrapati Bhavan in 1951 where they met India’s iconic first Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru and Dr. Rajendra Prasad, the first President. They made friends with J. Wijetunga, author of ‘Grass for my Feet’ fame who lived only a short distance away from their hostel, who gave them free access to his pantry and taught them the cultural history of India and also of Sri Lanka. They travelled to places of interest including a long-desired visit to Shanthi Nikethan, having developed a love for Rabindranath Tagore’s work, and took photos in front of the Taj Mahal.

When they first arrived in Delhi, they were thrilled to meet another Sri Lankan student in the senior year who had known them from Ceylon, Viola Perera. Viola introduced them to her friends, one of whom on obtaining her PhD became the Principal of the College of Nursing, University of Delhi.

It was clear that their time at Delhi University left a deep impression on the girls. They were being trained to take over from the departing British, and to maintain the required standards as well as to develop them further.  The sense of patriotic duty they saw in India made an impression on them. They also had plenty of fun, and Chandra was able to keep Ceylon’s end up when the beautiful Bengali voices of Indian students sang at their gatherings, having herself been voice-trained by Saranagupta Amarasinghe, and according to Trixie Marthenesz’s reminiscences in her book, ‘Those Delhi Days”, also by Ananda Samarakoon (p143).

A Worthy Battle Waged

Back in Ceylon, Chandra tried many times to introduce the educational opportunities she herself had obtained, to others in her profession. And yet, unlike India at Independence, Ceylon and later even Sri Lanka, was not ready to accept such progress easily. With the Health Ministry decision makers being male and mostly doctors, they ignorantly regarded the role of the nurse as a minor one, needing just “a pair of hands”. It may have involved some insecurity which masqueraded as good sense, at the cost to the country for many decades. As CNEO, Chandra battled through it all, rewriting the curriculum to bring it up to international standards, doing what she could to send Nurses overseas for training. And she kept presenting proposals for a BSc programme, which fell on deaf ears. Decades later, she was rewarded for her unwavering commitment to the cause when she was asked to start the BSc Nursing programme at the Open University of Sri Lanka (OUSL), which is now a great asset to the country, with other universities also offering it.

In 2004, two years before she passed away, the first publication of New Vision by the Graduate Nurses Foundation of Sri Lanka was presented to her. In the 2005 issue, they reproduced on the front page her keynote address at their AGM on the 31st of October 2004, at which she was Chief Guest.

Her speech recounts the painfully hard journey that the profession (and she herself) had to endure to raise it to its current status. Chandra recalls with sadness that the three-year Nursing Diploma did not entitle Sri Lankan nurses to pursue higher education, qualifying them only to follow a few courses at the Post Basic School of Nursing:

“I had to fight a very hard battle to keep the 3 year programme intact because there was a very serious effort to downgrade the three year programme to two years, a step that would have prevented our nurses from obtaining any acceptance and recognition in a foreign country. There was intense official and political pressure for a long time to effect this change but with the assistance of a few other Nursing Leaders this retrograde step was suppressed, perhaps forever. Such dangers can arise in the future too. The price we nurses have to pay, is eternal vigilance to challenge and suppress any effort to downgrade the standard of Nursing Education in Sri Lanka.”

She happily announced that at that stage, there were 200 BSc graduates and 25 who had obtained their Master’s degree, with two heading for their PhD. She defined the lack of access to higher education for nurses as a “human right denied”. She also declared that for the first time, there was agreement across all nursing services to propose a nursing degree at conventional universities, disclosing that this was the “first time such consensus has manifested in the Nursing Services”. She called upon nurses to retain this unity “at whatever cost” and just as in other professions such an engineering, law, medicine, “it was time to rectify this anomaly” and “work together to achieve this new dimension in Nursing Education.”

A Mother to More Than Her Own

As I write this memorial to honour my mother Chandra for her life of service and unwavering dedication to provide for others the education she herself received at two of the best universities in the world (Delhi and Boston), her determination and grace under pressure, I know why I have focused on her professional life rather than her personal one. It is because I grew up sensing that she was truly a mother to a larger family, of nursing students and professionals she was responsible for. She never turned away any of them coming over to her home for special help with their dissertation topics or applications for scholarships. She encouraged the senior nursing staff to follow the degree course and helped them complete it when they were discouraged. Some who recognized me at the counters in private hospitals came up to declare their gratitude to her for this specific gesture of help, because their employment prospects had expanded greatly with that.

Though infinitely patient, graceful and ladylike, my mother was a fighter. I saw how she never gave up on her ambitions for her profession, although she was hardly ambitious for herself. I saw her pain, and her determination to fight on in a hostile environment of male dominated bureaucracy.

I am eternally grateful to Aunty Trixie (Trixie Marthenesz, her fellow student at Delhi Uni) for writing a delightful little booklet called “Those Delhi Days” (Tharanjee Prints, Maharagama, 2009), recounting their time from 1950 to 1954 at the University of Delhi, with wonderful photographs of their 4-year journey as undergraduates, including at the annual concert in creative costumes and also on their holidays around India. An especially charming photo on the first page is the one on Convocation Day 1954, which shows Chandra, Trixie and Shareen together with a few of their batch mates wearing their robes with the distinctive Delhi Uni Cap. The book recalls in such delicious detail their time during such an exciting period in India, just two years after Independence from the British. I found some of the facts for this article from that book. Aunty Trixie, whom my mother drew in, together with Aunty Viola (Viola Perera, the senior student at Delhi University) talking them both out of retirement to begin the work of setting up a new department of Nursing at the Open University, writes in her book, of the young student Chandra who screamed at witnessing the death of their first patient in a hospital in India, bringing “half the ward to the scene”, but who then turned into “a leader among professional nurses in Sri Lanka” which appellation Trixie says “befitted her”.

I see that others have now taken the profession to new heights. Her students are now the warriors at the forefront of the battle for even further professional and pedagogical development. She would be proud. I like to believe that she was as much a guiding light as a Morning Star, softly glowing in the memories of those who knew her, inspiring them to never give up, and to do things with grace. That’s why I share these memories of my exceptional, beloved mother with all those nurses who have known her personally, her colleagues, lecturers and students in white who lined the path throwing jasmine blossoms at the vehicle taking her on her final journey through Kanatte, Colombo’s the main cemetery, and those who have and will come to know her, and the contribution she made to their profession, through the History of Nursing in Sri Lanka.

By Sanja de Silva Jayatilleka

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to pathi

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Pathiraja

Dharmasena Pathiraja’s eight death anniversary falls today

it is in loss and loneliness, one
finds words of solace, without which,
none may live or even die,
fling forging nouns,
into the far-flung corners
of birth and death, departing
from the beaten tracks of heavy tread.

dreams come and go,
in colour, as a contamination of the real,
the waking hours, a coming and going,
of departure and death
of bodies lined up shot,
in eelam, in lanka, or any other place.
the political is strained, half breathing,
lines the tongue with lashing words.
stories we tell our children
of war in words of peace,
and of peace in words there’s nothing to tell.

in silence, the quiet beat of the heart, strums louder and louder,
calling up the sound of waiting, for that time, when it is
all a matter of leaving, and now a matter for grieving,
living out the vanishing moments as limn, time pass, and
as our life foreshadowing death, not yet dreamt of,
but dreaded still.

in gaza, the children are gone forever
and it’s been a long journey, these forever years.

sumathy – january 2026

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Opinion

Those who play at bowls must look out for rubbers

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President Anura Kumara Dissanayake should  listen at least to the views of the Mothers’ Front on proposed educational reforms.

I was listening to the apolitical views expressed by the mothers’ front criticising the proposed educational reforms of the government and I found that their views were addressing some of the core questionable issues relevant to the schoolchildren, and their parents, too.

They were critical of the way the educational reforms were formulated. The absence of any consultation with the stakeholders or any accredited professional organisation about the terms and the scope of education was one of the key criticisms of the Mothers’ Front and it is critically important to comprehend the validity of their opposition to the proposed reforms. Further, the proposals do include ideas and designs borrowed from some of the foreign countries which they are now re-evaluating in view of the various shortcomings which they themselves have encountered. On the subject, History, it is indeed unfortunate that it has been included as an optional, whereas in many developed countries it is a compulsory subject; further, in the module the subject is practically limited to pre-historic periods whereas Sri Lanka can proudly claim a longer recorded history which is important to be studied for the students to understand what happened in the past and comprehend the present.

Another important criticism of the Mothers’ Front was the attempted promotion of sexuality in place of sex education. Further there is a visible effort to promote trans-gender concepts as an example  when considering the module on family unit which is drawn with two males  and a child and two females  and a child which are nor representative of Sri Lankan family unit.

Ranjith Soysa

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