Features

G.R. Perera : Reflections on a Career

Published

3 years ago

2023/05/12

By Uditha Devapriya

R. Perera, who died last Monday, hailed from the same generation as Sumitra Peries, who passed away in January. A towering hulk of a man, Perera often played characters who did not want to flaunt their strength, who concealed their aggressive streak. This did not make him timid, still less submissive. Whether he was playing a monk or a Mudaliyar, he knew when to be assertive and when to step back. The result was a remarkable combination of bravado and self-restraint that epitomised him. Yet, such a combination served in the end to restrict him: much of the time he had to be content playing secondary roles.

It would be a mistake, however, to view this purely as a limitation. Perera may have been restricted to secondary roles, but even within these limits he gave his best and built up an impressive portfolio of performances. Not all of them ranked at the top of the league, but not all of them ranked at the bottom either: he could play the Mudaliyar (Nidahase Piya) with as much finesse as the servant of the manor (Aswesuma), a henchman (Welikathara) with as much facility as a monk (Giraya). Like Joe Abeywickrema, the greatest character actor Sri Lanka has ever seen, Perera remained, to his last, a chameleonic figure.

Chameleonic, and colourful. When I met him in 2016, he opened himself up, not caring to restrain himself. This may have been because he lived through a very colourful childhood and adolescence. Born in Kirulapone in 1939, Perera was initially educated at Rattanapitiya in Boralesgamuwa. His family moved to Egodawatte, one of the 13 villages which made up Boralesgamuwa, and sent him to Kumara Vidyalaya in Kotahena. It was at Rattanapitiya, in or around 1950, that he met and befriended Tissa Abeysekara. The two of them became good friends, cycling together to Kandy, sampling the latest films and books.

A deeply bilingual man, Perera’s tastes remained decidedly eclectic. He was at ease and at home with both Erskine Caldwell and Martin Wickramasinghe. His own career began with the theatre, specifically with Sugathapala de Silva. There are perhaps many versions of how de Silva came up with a name for his stage troupe, and Perera had his. Apparently the two of them had been brainstorming for names at the Vihara Maha Devi Park for almost two weeks, and along the way several arrack bottles had been, to put it politely, downed. Exasperated and not a little frustrated, on the 12th day Perera had blurted out, “Balahan Sugath, arakku bothal daha thunak oni ne ape kattiyata namak hoyaganna!”

De Silva had paused. “Stop right there!” he had expostulated. Thinking for a while, he had smiled at Perera and declared: “Ape Kattiya we shall be!”

All this led to Perera’s debut in Dharmasiri Wickramaratne’s Ran Thodu, which apparently created such a furore and a sensation that several actors and writers joined them, including Wickrema Bogoda and Premaranjith Tilakaratne. Premaranjith, a fiery radical even during his time, subsequently broke away from Ape Kattiya and formed his own troupe, 63 Kandayama. He persuaded Perera to play a leading role in his debut, Waguru Bima, in 1963. One thing led to another again, and D. B. Nihalsinghe chose him to play a minor though important role in his debut, Welikathara. Perera’s performance there lasts for around 10 minutes: it was shot, he remembered for me, at G. D. L. Perera’s office in Nawinne.

These associations made him an integral part of the social transformations which were sweeping across Sri Lanka at the time. The 1956 election had, for all intents and purposes, emancipated a Sinhala speaking intelligentsia and artistic community, giving them the freedom and the agency to do as they pleased and as they wished. From this emerged an entire generation of bilingual artistes, particularly playwrights, who not only repudiated the classical garb of Sarachchandra’s Maname, but also went out to the world in search of new, exciting dramatic and artistic forms. Perera soon found himself in their company, working alongside with, or making the acquaintance of, the likes of Tilakaratne, Perera, Sumana Aloka Bandara, and Sugathapala de Silva, all of whom hailed from his class.

Certainly, these were formative years, particularly for the Sinhala cinema. Yet Perera did not particularly distinguish himself in film. A tally of less than 60 films, including three Indian, two American, and one German, would hardly constitute a “prodigious” career, after all. Rather, it was in television that the man proved his mark and made a name for himself. Counting in more than 600 television serials and performances, Perera carved a niche for himself as a supporting actor, a feat which eventually broke records and for which he was recognised officially, when some years ago, at the Raigam Awards, he received honours as the actor with the highest number of television appearances.

Unlike most of his contemporaries, Perera did not care to stick to a particular mould or archetype. What binds all his performances together today is that they are all supporting characters. There were one or two roles with which he took the lead, but these were, until his last days, exceptional. A concomitant of this was that none of his performances were ever truly likeable or dislikeable. Their function, as it stood, was to propel the plot, to better reinforce relations between the protagonist and the world around him in the narrative. In Aswesuma, for instance, he is the servant of the manor, whose main function, literally, is to despatch messages between the protagonist, played by Jackson Anthony, and the man who will eventually try to kill him, played by Ravindra Randeniya.

This is not to say that these characters lacked agency. But more often than not, they were deprived of it. With very little to do, they often lingered onscreen, waiting until the script gave them something to act on. But within the confines of his characters, he had very little to do, and catalytic though some of his performances may have been, in the end he refused to take the lead with them. This is the case with his performance as the game hamuduruwo in Giraya: in his attempt at educating villagers, he risks running up against the traditional social order represented by the occupants of the manor, particularly the Walawwa Hamine played by Grace Ariyawimal. But Perera’s monk does not become a complete radical either: he contents himself in educating his people, rather than inciting them to rebel.

The most obvious comparison and contrast that comes to mind is Joe Abeywickrema. Until Welikathara, which coincidentally was Perera’s debut, Abeywickrema remained at best a secondary player, whose roles in film seemed to be that of a consoler, the man who went out of his way to make things happen faster for the protagonist. After Welikathara, things never stayed the same. In both Welikathara and Aswesuma, one notices at once the rift, the contrast, between these two actors: Abeywickrema does not hesitate to take the lead, while Perera does all he can to stay away. In this both were responding to the limitations placed on them by their script, and in both cases, they gave the best they had. It is perhaps a sign of how distinct the one was from the other that although their characters in Welikathara and Aswesuma know each other, these two actors never meet in person.

He remained, to the last, prone to talk. It was impossible to end any conversation you began with him, especially if that conversation centred on subjects close to his heart. And there were quite a number of subjects close to his heart, among them the state of the nation’s theatre. Once, for instance, he had approached the Norwegian Ambassador and proposed a novel idea. “I wanted Sri Lanka to have more complexes outside Colombo. These would be named after playwrights from the world over and funded by the citizens of their respective countries. Norwegians, for instance, could help build a complex named after Ibsen.” Sadly, though the Ambassador had been intrigued, the project never came to be.

Such passions and obsessions dotted Perera’s life, though people would not normally associate him with them. For them, as for most of us, Perera remained an actor, a pretty decent one. Although much can be said and written about the quality of the productions that he took part in – from the high point of Sri Lankan cinema and television in the 1970s and 1980s, we have slipped, badly – it goes without saying that, despite the limits within which he had to perform, he performed well. Perhaps the best example for this would be one of his last roles, as Mudaliyar Don Spater Senanayake in Nidahase Piya. That film left much to be desired, historically, but as the paterfamilias of the Senanayake family, Perera reimagined his role, embodying him, but also individualising him. In the end that became his signature: his ability at assimilating his role, and giving it his own distinct flavour.

The writer is an international relations analyst, researcher, and columnist who can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com.

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Features

Rebuilding the country requires consultation

Published

10 hours ago

2026/01/13

Sahan Weerasooriya

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

Published

10 hours ago

2026/01/13

Sahan Weerasooriya

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

Published

10 hours ago

2026/01/13

Sahan Weerasooriya

JAYASRI: From Vienna, Austria

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.”