Features
Deconstructing Ravi
By Uditha Devapriya
A book on Ravindra Randeniya was long incoming, and now we have two. Full disclosure: I am the author of one of them. Gamini Weragama, arguably the most knowledgeable and reputed film critic writing in Sinhala today, has authored the other.
Weragama’s book was published by Sarasavi, mine by FastADS. Both were launched at a ceremony at the BMICH last Wednesday, June 5. The event, excellently put together by a hardworking, passionate team led by Dr Ranga Kalansooriya, witnessed a galaxy of actors, directors, critics, writers, MPs, even the president and prime minister. My friend Indunil put it in perspective: “the whole of Sinhala cinema was there that night.”
Ravindra is Ravi aiya to his colleagues, contemporaries, and juniors. He is by far the most distinguished, reputable actor alive in Sri Lanka. This is not to underplay or ignore any criticism we can make of him. Yet, as far as Sri Lankan actors go, he remains unmatched in the dazzling range and complexity he has embraced in role after role.
But there is more to Ravindra than the films he has been in and the roles he has taken on. Much more. To assess his career more carefully, I believe we need to look at him through a different lens and prism, specifically a sociohistorical one. This is the perspective I have adopted in parts of my book, but it is one which requires a radically different conception of actors and their place in our society.
Any assessment of Randeniya must, I think, begin from the fact that he came of age in 1956. That year has become pivotal for reasons which warrant a separate essay. More than anything, it launched the careers of an entirely different generation of artistes, including playwrights, filmmakers, musicians, and dancers.
While S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike was spreading the gospel of Sinhala Only throughout the country, Ravindra Randeniya was taking part in a Fifth Standard production of Sigiri Kashyapa at his school, St Benedict’s College, Kotahena. Incredibly, it was the only stage production he took part in at school. Indeed, he would not act in any production of any sort until more than a decade later, when he joined the Lionel Wendt Theatre Workshop. Why so? Because, in his own words, “I was more interested in literature than in theatre.”
A highly literate student, Ravindra immersed himself in the literature of his time, reading everyone from Martin Wickramasinghe to Siri Gunasinghe to Gunadasa Amarasekara to Mahagama Sekara. Though he watched films, he did so only occasionally, and was limited to standard Hollywood and Bollywood fare. Over time, he saw himself as a litterateur, though his larger ambition was to become a doctor.
For better or worse, Ravindra could not pursue his medical ambitions. He then got down to working for his father. By now, he was living through a completely different time. The Sinhala theatre was undergoing a revival, as was the cinema. Spurred on by the likes of Ediriweera Sarachchandra and Lester Peries, these mediums became more accessible to the Sinhala speaking masses, leading to the formation of independent theatre collectives which went against the grain and questioned accepted artistic conventions.
Ravindra’s entry into the cinema was preceded by three long but fateful years at the Lionel Wendt Theatre Workshop. The Workshop was a product of its time, and its impact on the country’s cultural community was considerable. However, for some reason, it has escaped the attention of critics. To understand its relevance for Ravindra, we ought to delve into the changes that were sweeping through Sri Lanka at that point.
In the 1950s and 1960s, a number of playwrights and theatre practitioners made their way to Western countries, through grants and scholarships. One of the first of these was Henry Jayasena, who travelled to both Russia and England. Gunasena Galappatti, who introduced García Lorca to Sri Lankan audiences, won a Fulbright Scholarship to the US, where he came under the influence of Uta Hagen and the Actors’ Studio. This was around the time that two other pioneering intellectuals – Gananath Obeyesekere and J. B. Disanayake – secured the Fulbright. The impact of these scholarships and exchange programmes on Sri Lanka’s cultural trajectory was massive, though it has never been researched in full.
Freed from the conventions of their predecessors, these dramatists experimented in different artistic forms and idioms. They fostered the growth of a bilingual cultural elite in Sri Lanka. They also attracted another group of playwrights, who hailed from a Sinhala-speaking lower middle-class and had found jobs in the country’s administrative service. Many among this group went on to form independent theatre collectives, the most popular of which was Sugathapala de Silva’s Ape Kattiya, along with Premaranjith Tillekeratne’s 63 Kandayama – a breakaway faction from Ape Kattiya – and G. D. L. Perera’s Kala Pela.
These playwrights were driven by an almost visceral aversion to Sarachchandra’s mixture of stylised and realist theatre. Premaranjith, in particular, took a strong dislike to what he saw as the great man’s opposition to Western theatrical forms. “When I once played for him a recording from West Side Story,” he related to me, “he just winced and said, ‘What is this cacophony?’” Such encounters persuaded Tillekeratne and his peers that the country was in need of a different conception of theatre and art.
Of course, to limit the Lionel Wendt Theatre Workshop to the efforts of these innovators alone would be to credit one group, when there was in fact several other groups involved in its establishment and founding. Sarachchandra himself became a founding figure, as did scholars like Percy Colin-Thomé, A. J. Gunawardena, and Wimal Dissanayake, together with artistes from other fields, like Chitrasena, Manjusri, and Amaradeva.
Looming above all of them was Dhamma Jagoda. A dramatist, connoisseur of the arts, and fiery radical, Jagoda was instrumental in formulating a syllabus for the Workshop. Together with Harold Peiris, he came up with a curriculum which could impart the best and the latest in Western, European, and Asian theatre to students.
Jagoda himself had travelled abroad on a grant. In 1967-1968, following his production of Tennessee Williams’s A Streetcar Named Desire – Sinhalised as Ves Muhunu and starring the likes of Roma de Zoysa, Rukmani Devi, and Sunethra Sarachchandra – he had secured a scholarship from the British Council. Visiting more than 15 countries, and ending up in New York, he had not just met Lee Strasberg but also talked with Marlon Brando.
Jagoda was tempestuous and unpredictable, a Picasso-like genius who resorted to the most unconventional methods. “He gave up everything to dedicate himself to teaching,” his wife Manel, who became involved in the Workshop, first as a student and then as an organiser, recalls. Ravindra’s senior by four years, he mentored the budding actor well. “He was an almost fanatical stickler for time,” Ravindra remembered him. “Once I got five minutes late, and he put me out, telling me that we should be five minutes early.”
If these anecdotes and encounters put Ravindra in the background, that is because Ravindra was a product of his times, and there is no use deconstructing him without deconstructing the period he hailed from. Moreover, Ravindra’s forays into the cinema were conditioned by his experience in the theatre, for at least two reasons.
First, the Workshop made him more receptive to the intricacies of acting: he had signed up originally for backstage work, among other subjects, but Dhamma pulled him into acting classes. “It made me more sensitive to the art of acting, which I had not seen as an art until then.” Second, because it involved the leading cultural figures of the day, the Workshop attracted the interest of filmmakers, actors, and critics. By 1972, when he passed out with a Diploma, Ravindra was hence getting offers from the likes of Lester Peries.
All these points have been laid bare in the two books on Ravindra. The man’s achievements cannot be emphasised enough. Ravindra redefined what it meant to be an actor in Sri Lanka. The stage had already been set for him by Gamini Fonseka, Joe Abeywickrema, and Tony Ranasinghe. Ravindra continued their legacy while breaking with their tradition: in effect, by cultivating a range almost unparalleled among his predecessors.
It is thus wrong to pigeonhole Ravindra into one type of role and to overlook his diversity. That diversity is what makes the man tick. The Lionel Wendt Theatre Workshop, and the developments of the 1960s, had a huge say on his evolution. It would be wrong to overlook those developments too. This is the point of our books.
Uditha Devapriya is a writer, researcher, and analyst who writes on topics such as history, art and culture, politics, and foreign policy. He is one of the two leads in U & U, an informal art and culture research collective. He can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com.
Features
Rebuilding the country requires consultation
A positive feature of the government that is emerging is its responsiveness to public opinion. The manner in which it has been responding to the furore over the Grade 6 English Reader, in which a weblink to a gay dating site was inserted, has been constructive. Government leaders have taken pains to explain the mishap and reassure everyone concerned that it was not meant to be there and would be removed. They have been meeting religious prelates, educationists and community leaders. In a context where public trust in institutions has been badly eroded over many years, such responsiveness matters. It signals that the government sees itself as accountable to society, including to parents, teachers, and those concerned about the values transmitted through the school system.
This incident also appears to have strengthened unity within the government. The attempt by some opposition politicians and gender misogynists to pin responsibility for this lapse on Prime Minister Dr Harini Amarasuriya, who is also the Minister of Education, has prompted other senior members of the government to come to her defence. This is contrary to speculation that the powerful JVP component of the government is unhappy with the prime minister. More importantly, it demonstrates an understanding within the government that individual ministers should not be scapegoated for systemic shortcomings. Effective governance depends on collective responsibility and solidarity within the leadership, especially during moments of public controversy.
The continuing important role of the prime minister in the government is evident in her meetings with international dignitaries and also in addressing the general public. Last week she chaired the inaugural meeting of the Presidential Task Force to Rebuild Sri Lanka in the aftermath of Cyclone Ditwah. The composition of the task force once again reflects the responsiveness of the government to public opinion. Unlike previous mechanisms set up by governments, which were either all male or without ethnic minority representation, this one includes both, and also includes civil society representation. Decision-making bodies in which there is diversity are more likely to command public legitimacy.
Task Force
The Presidential Task Force to Rebuild Sri Lanka overlooks eight committees to manage different aspects of the recovery, each headed by a sector minister. These committees will focus on Needs Assessment, Restoration of Public Infrastructure, Housing, Local Economies and Livelihoods, Social Infrastructure, Finance and Funding, Data and Information Systems, and Public Communication. This structure appears comprehensive and well designed. However, experience from post-disaster reconstruction in countries such as Indonesia and Sri Lanka after the 2004 tsunami suggests that institutional design alone does not guarantee success. What matters equally is how far these committees engage with those on the ground and remain open to feedback that may complicate, slow down, or even challenge initial plans.
An option that the task force might wish to consider is to develop a linkage with civil society groups with expertise in the areas that the task force is expected to work. The CSO Collective for Emergency Relief has set up several committees that could be linked to the committees supervised by the task force. Such linkages would not weaken the government’s authority but strengthen it by grounding policy in lived realities. Recent findings emphasise the idea of “co-production”, where state and society jointly shape solutions in which sustainable outcomes often emerge when communities are treated not as passive beneficiaries but as partners in problem-solving.
Cyclone Ditwah destroyed more than physical infrastructure. It also destroyed communities. Some were swallowed by landslides and floods, while many others will need to be moved from their homes as they live in areas vulnerable to future disasters. The trauma of displacement is not merely material but social and psychological. Moving communities to new locations requires careful planning. It is not simply a matter of providing people with houses. They need to be relocated to locations and in a manner that permits communities to live together and to have livelihoods. This will require consultation with those who are displaced. Post-disaster evaluations have acknowledged that relocation schemes imposed without community consent often fail, leading to abandonment of new settlements or the emergence of new forms of marginalisation. Even today, abandoned tsunami housing is to be seen in various places that were affected by the 2004 tsunami.
Malaiyaha Tamils
The large-scale reconstruction that needs to take place in parts of the country most severely affected by Cyclone Ditwah also brings an opportunity to deal with the special problems of the Malaiyaha Tamil population. These are people of recent Indian origin who were unjustly treated at the time of Independence and denied rights of citizenship such as land ownership and the vote. This has been a festering problem and a blot on the conscience of the country. The need to resettle people living in those parts of the hill country which are vulnerable to landslides is an opportunity to do justice by the Malaiyaha Tamil community. Technocratic solutions such as high-rise apartments or English-style townhouses that have or are being contemplated may be cost-effective, but may also be culturally inappropriate and socially disruptive. The task is not simply to build houses but to rebuild communities.
The resettlement of people who have lost their homes and communities requires consultation with them. In the same manner, the education reform programme, of which the textbook controversy is only a small part, too needs to be discussed with concerned stakeholders including school teachers and university faculty. Opening up for discussion does not mean giving up one’s own position or values. Rather, it means recognising that better solutions emerge when different perspectives are heard and negotiated. Consultation takes time and can be frustrating, particularly in contexts of crisis where pressure for quick results is intense. However, solutions developed with stakeholder participation are more resilient and less costly in the long run.
Rebuilding after Cyclone Ditwah, addressing historical injustices faced by the Malaiyaha Tamil community, advancing education reform, changing the electoral system to hold provincial elections without further delay and other challenges facing the government, including national reconciliation, all require dialogue across differences and patience with disagreement. Opening up for discussion is not to give up on one’s own position or values, but to listen, to learn, and to arrive at solutions that have wider acceptance. Consultation needs to be treated as an investment in sustainability and legitimacy and not as an obstacle to rapid decisionmaking. Addressing the problems together, especially engagement with affected parties and those who work with them, offers the best chance of rebuilding not only physical infrastructure but also trust between the government and people in the year ahead.
by Jehan Perera
Features
PSTA: Terrorism without terror continues
When the government appointed a committee, led by Rienzie Arsekularatne, Senior President’s Counsel, to draft a new law to replace the Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA), as promised by the ruling NPP, the writer, in an article published in this journal in July 2025, expressed optimism that, given Arsekularatne’s experience in criminal justice, he would be able to address issues from the perspectives of the State, criminal justice, human rights, suspects, accused, activists, and victims. The draft Protection of the State from Terrorism Act (PSTA), produced by the Committee, has been sharply criticised by individuals and organisations who expected a better outcome that aligns with modern criminal justice and human rights principles.
This article is limited to a discussion of the definition of terrorism. As the writer explained previously, the dangers of an overly broad definition go beyond conviction and increased punishment. Special laws on terrorism allow deviations from standard laws in areas such as preventive detention, arrest, administrative detention, restrictions on judicial decisions regarding bail, lengthy pre-trial detention, the use of confessions, superadded punishments, such as confiscation of property and cancellation of professional licences, banning organisations, and restrictions on publications, among others. The misuse of such laws is not uncommon. Drastic legislation, such as the PTA and emergency regulations, although intended to be used to curb intense violence and deal with emergencies, has been exploited to suppress political opposition.
International Standards
The writer’s basic premise is that, for an act to come within the definition of terrorism, it must either involve “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” or be committed to achieve an objective of an individual or organisation that uses “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” to realise its aims. The UN General Assembly has accepted that the threshold for a possible general offence of terrorism is the provocation of “a state of terror” (Resolution 60/43). The Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe has taken a similar view, using the phrase “to create a climate of terror.”
In his 2023 report on the implementation of the UN Global Counter-Terrorism Strategy, the Secretary-General warned that vague and overly broad definitions of terrorism in domestic law, often lacking adequate safeguards, violate the principle of legality under international human rights law. He noted that such laws lead to heavy-handed, ineffective, and counterproductive counter-terrorism practices and are frequently misused to target civil society actors and human rights defenders by labelling them as terrorists to obstruct their work.
The United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) has stressed in its Handbook on Criminal Justice Responses to Terrorism that definitions of terrorist acts must use precise and unambiguous language, narrowly define punishable conduct and clearly distinguish it from non-punishable behaviour or offences subject to other penalties. The handbook was developed over several months by a team of international experts, including the writer, and was finalised at a workshop in Vienna.
Anti-Terrorism Bill, 2023
A five-member Bench of the Supreme Court that examined the Anti-Terrorism Bill, 2023, agreed with the petitioners that the definition of terrorism in the Bill was too broad and infringed Article 12(1) of the Constitution, and recommended that an exemption (“carve out”) similar to that used in New Zealand under which “the fact that a person engages in any protest, advocacy, or dissent, or engages in any strike, lockout, or other industrial action, is not, by itself, a sufficient basis for inferring that the person” committed the wrongful acts that would otherwise constitute terrorism.
While recognising the Court’s finding that the definition was too broad, the writer argued, in his previous article, that the political, administrative, and law enforcement cultures of the country concerned are crucial factors to consider. Countries such as New Zealand are well ahead of developing nations, where the risk of misuse is higher, and, therefore, definitions should be narrower, with broader and more precise exemptions. How such a “carve out” would play out in practice is uncertain.
In the Supreme Court, it was submitted that for an act to constitute an offence, under a special law on terrorism, there must be terror unleashed in the commission of the act, or it must be carried out in pursuance of the object of an organisation that uses terror to achieve its objectives. In general, only acts that aim at creating “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” should come under the definition of terrorism. There can be terrorism-related acts without violence, for example, when a member of an extremist organisation remotely sabotages an electronic, automated or computerised system in pursuance of the organisation’s goal. But when the same act is committed by, say, a whizz-kid without such a connection, that would be illegal and should be punished, but not under a special law on terrorism. In its determination of the Bill, the Court did not address this submission.
PSTA Proposal
Proposed section 3(1) of the PSTA reads:
Any person who, intentionally or knowingly, commits any act which causes a consequence specified in subsection (2), for the purpose of-
(a) provoking a state of terror;
(b) intimidating the public or any section of the public;
(c) compelling the Government of Sri Lanka, or any other Government, or an international organisation, to do or to abstain from doing any act; or
(d) propagating war, or violating territorial integrity or infringing the sovereignty of Sri Lanka or any other sovereign country, commits the offence of terrorism.
The consequences listed in sub-section (2) include: death; hurt; hostage-taking; abduction or kidnapping; serious damage to any place of public use, any public property, any public or private transportation system or any infrastructure facility or environment; robbery, extortion or theft of public or private property; serious risk to the health and safety of the public or a section of the public; serious obstruction or damage to, or interference with, any electronic or automated or computerised system or network or cyber environment of domains assigned to, or websites registered with such domains assigned to Sri Lanka; destruction of, or serious damage to, religious or cultural property; serious obstruction or damage to, or interference with any electronic, analogue, digital or other wire-linked or wireless transmission system, including signal transmission and any other frequency-based transmission system; without lawful authority, importing, exporting, manufacturing, collecting, obtaining, supplying, trafficking, possessing or using firearms, offensive weapons, ammunition, explosives, articles or things used in the manufacture of explosives or combustible or corrosive substances and biological, chemical, electric, electronic or nuclear weapons, other nuclear explosive devices, nuclear material, radioactive substances, or radiation-emitting devices.
Under section 3(5), “any person who commits an act which constitutes an offence under the nine international treaties on terrorism, ratified by Sri Lanka, also commits the offence of terrorism.” No one would contest that.
The New Zealand “carve-out” is found in sub-section (4): “The fact that a person engages in any protest, advocacy or dissent or engages in any strike, lockout or other industrial action, is not by itself a sufficient basis for inferring that such person (a) commits or attempts, abets, conspires, or prepares to commit the act with the intention or knowledge specified in subsection (1); or (b) is intending to cause or knowingly causes an outcome specified in subsection (2).”
While the Arsekularatne Committee has proposed, including the New Zealand “carve out”, it has ignored a crucial qualification in section 5(2) of that country’s Terrorism Suppression Act, that for an act to be considered a terrorist act, it must be carried out for one or more purposes that are or include advancing “an ideological, political, or religious cause”, with the intention of either intimidating a population or coercing or forcing a government or an international organisation to do or abstain from doing any act.
When the Committee was appointed, the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka opined that any new offence with respect to “terrorism” should contain a specific and narrow definition of terrorism, such as the following: “Any person who by the use of force or violence unlawfully targets the civilian population or a segment of the civilian population with the intent to spread fear among such population or segment thereof in furtherance of a political, ideological, or religious cause commits the offence of terrorism”.
The writer submits that, rather than bringing in the requirement of “a political, ideological, or religious cause”, it would be prudent to qualify proposed section 3(1) by the requirement that only acts that aim at creating “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” or are carried out to achieve a goal of an individual or organisation that employs “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” to attain its objectives should come under the definition of terrorism. Such a threshold is recognised internationally; no “carve out” is then needed, and the concerns of the Human Rights Commission would also be addressed.
by Dr. Jayampathy Wickramaratne
President’s Counsel
Features
ROCK meets REGGAE 2026
We generally have in our midst the famous JAYASRI twins, Rohitha and Rohan, who are based in Austria but make it a point to entertain their fans in Sri Lanka on a regular basis.
Well, rock and reggae fans get ready for a major happening on 28th February (Oops, a special day where I’m concerned!) as the much-awaited ROCK meets REGGAE event booms into action at the Nelum Pokuna outdoor theatre.
It was seven years ago, in 2019, that the last ROCK meets REGGAE concert was held in Colombo, and then the Covid scene cropped up.

Chitral Somapala with BLACK MAJESTY
This year’s event will feature our rock star Chitral Somapala with the Australian Rock+Metal band BLACK MAJESTY, and the reggae twins Rohitha and Rohan Jayalath with the original JAYASRI – the full band, with seven members from Vienna, Austria.
According to Rohitha, the JAYASRI outfit is enthusiastically looking forward to entertaining music lovers here with their brand of music.
Their playlist for 28th February will consist of the songs they do at festivals in Europe, as well as originals, and also English and Sinhala hits, and selected covers.
Says Rohitha: “We have put up a great team, here in Sri Lanka, to give this event an international setting and maintain high standards, and this will be a great experience for our Sri Lankan music lovers … not only for Rock and Reggae fans. Yes, there will be some opening acts, and many surprises, as well.”

Rohitha, Chitral and Rohan: Big scene at ROCK meets REGGAE
Rohitha and Rohan also conveyed their love and festive blessings to everyone in Sri Lanka, stating “This Christmas was different as our country faced a catastrophic situation and, indeed, it’s a great time to help and share the real love of Jesus Christ by helping the poor, the needy and the homeless people. Let’s RISE UP as a great nation in 2026.”
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