Features

Implementing the Paddy Lands Act of 1958 – the Cultivation Committees

Published

5 years ago

2021/01/17

Sahan Weerasooriya

by Chandra Arulpragasam

Introduction: A Personal Note

In the CCS in early 1958, I was appointed Deputy Commissioner of the Agrarian Services Department, in charge of implementing the Paddy Lands Act of 1958. In setting out to draft the Administrative Regulations under the Act, I came across a number of structural, legal and operational considerations, which probably had not been foreseen by its authors. This was probably the first time that it was being looked at by an administrator with field experience – and the first time that it was being looked at by someone who was new to the Paddy Lands Act and to its thinking.

First, from a conceptual side, the concept and design of the Act did not fit, for example, the agrarian conditions of the Batticaloa district, which raised some problems of implementation. Secondly, because of the Act’s contentious nature, its legal provisions were likely to be challenged and its implementation obstructed. This made it necessary to examine its provisions from an adversarial point of view – which revealed many legal and administrative vulnerabilities. Thirdly, there were new problems of implementation. For example, the Act safeguarded tenants, but there were no records of tenants or of landlords. New records of land ownership, tenancy, etc. would have to be created from scratch before implementation could even begin.

In comparison, the land records in India, Pakistan and Bangladesh had been built up over a period of 200 years by the British imperial power. How could such records be created within six months before the Act would become operational in six districts of the country – as stipulated in the Act? Moreover, there were all sorts of potential legal and administrative problems in the elections of the Cultivation Committees. And so on.

The Commissioner of Agrarian Services happened to be abroad for three weeks. Thus, not only was I was the Acting Head of a Class I, Grade 1 Department at the age of 28 years, but I also needed policy-level help, because this was hitherto unchartered territory in the country. So I asked for an appointment with the Minister of Agriculture, Mr. Phillip Gunawardene, the author of the Act, whom I had never met or seen before. The Minister was charming, affable and even fatherly, over a cup of tea and cakes in Parliament. Getting down to business, I brought to his notice the number of legal difficulties and some of the administrative problems that needed his guidance.

I was so intent on my presentation of the potential legal problems of the Cultivation Committees that I failed to notice that he had tossed his spectacles on the table, which was a sign (I was told later) that he was losing his patience – and his temper. I was only half way through my list when he suddenly banged his fist on the table with a loud noise, stopping me abruptly. “Young man” he exclaimed: “Have you come across these difficulties in the field – or are they in your head?” When I pointed weakly to my head, “Go and work”, he thundered! “And when you come across these problems, then you come to me!” In complete disarray, I scooped up my files and scooted from Parliament, leaving a trail of paper in my wake! This was the first and last time that I saw Mr. Phillip Gunawardene.

Within a few months, he was isolated and pushed out of the Cabinet, to be succeeded as Minister of Agriculture by Mr. C. P. de Silva. This resulted in two difficulties that I had to face. Within a few months, every one of the legal and administrative problems that I had raised with the Minister had actually come to pass. But secondly, when I needed ministerial help, Mr. Phillip Gunawardene, was no longer there. Instead, there was a new Minister, Mr. C.P de Silva, his political foe, who was actually opposed to the Act, and who decided to let it fester in its own legal difficulties so as to discredit it countrywide. In fact, I had to battle with the new Minister to amend the Act in order to give effect to the intentions of Parliament, or to repeal it. I gathered that he was not prepared to go to Parliament to publicly repeal it, since it was publicly popular. As late as 1960, I was struggling to get the same loopholes plugged that I had pointed out to the former Minister (Mr. Philip Gunawardene) in 1958.

Although upset by my encounter with Mr.Phillip Gunawardene, I came later to recognize that I had been looking at it only from my own administive and legal point of view, not appreciating his political difficulties in going back to Parliament for amendments before implementation had even began! Although I never met Mr. Gunawardene thereafter, he must have appreciated my work, for he later paid me a handsome compliment in Parliament, as recorded in Hansard.

New Ideas: The Role of the Cultivation Committees

Starting from the premise that the state machinery, especially at lower levels, was subject to the influence of the landlords, the Paddy Lands Act created a new Agrarian Services Department at national level, devoted to its implementation. Moreover, in order to bypass the lower level of administration at field level (which was thought to be under landlord influence), it created Cultivation Committees with assured majorities for the actual cultivators. This attempt to bias the administration in favour of the weaker sections of the agrarian society represented a change from the view prevailing from colonial times, namely, that the administration would be neutral in its dealings with all sections of the public. It is relevant to note here that most of the agrarian reform programmes in Latin America started from the same premise. Similarly, they opted for separate, dedicated agencies for the implementation of their land reforms, outside their existing ministries. The experiences of Japan, South Korea and Taiwan were quite different because their land reforms were carried out under martial law, or with the active backing of the military.

The Act was also innovatory in that it represented the first time in any country in South and South East Asia that legal powers in the implementation of tenurial reforms and the management of irrigation and cultivation at field levels were given to an elected body. The idea that an elected body of semi-educated farmers could take over functions from the government bureaucracy was clearly revolutionary at that time. For example, since the rent payable on a particular field was fixed as one-fourth share of the harvest, how could a distant court know how much the gross harvest of a particular field was? The Act recognized that such factual questions at field level could only be answered at field level. The failure to recognize this and to provide for beneficiary participation in implementing such reforms has been one of the greatest weaknesses of similar programmes in other countries of the region at that time.

The first role of the Cultivation Committees was to help in the implementation of the tenancy provisions of the Act (Sections 8-19). The Committees were also authorized to act as intermediaries between landlord and tenant in the collection of rents, etc., thus reducing the personal hold of landlords over their tenants. The Cultivation Committees were thus expected to play an important socio-psychological role in bolstering the confidence of the tenant-cultivators to actively claim their rights under the law.

Secondly, the Cultivation Committees were given important development functions, with powers for the advancement of paddy cultivation in their areas. They were given access to technical advice in the form of Agricultural Extension Officers and Village Cultivation Officers, who were made ex-officio members of the Committees; but with a right only to speak but not to vote at their meetings. It was hoped that with such technical advice emanating from within, and adopted by the Committees, would enable both paddy production and water-management to be greatly improved by the farmers, acting on their own volition..

A third major innovatory function of the Cultivation Committees was in respect of (irrigation) water management, with the Committees taking over the functions of the Irrigation Headmen (Vel Vidanes) at field level. These functions, among others, included enforcement of rules relating to cultivation dates, clearing of channels, fencing, etc, as well as improving water management. This was in a context where bureaucratic and technical means of water management at field level had already failed. The Paddy Lands Act of 1958 thus predated international recognition of the need for farmer participation in water-management by at least 20 years! In practice, however, the Cultivation Committees under the Act of 1958 never made any progress in this field because they were legally invalidated soon after their formation.

A fourth innovation was in the field of agricultural extension. It was evident then, and more evident now, that agricultural extension systems based on the western models of one extension worker dealing face-to-face with each individual farmer were completely unrealistic in most developing countries with a multitude of small farmers. For example, in Nepal, an extension agent would have to walk one whole day to even reach 50 farmers in remote vellages! No developing country in the world could afford such a system in the context of multiple small farmers, which would require a quadrupling or more of extension workers. Ironically, this has been the recommendation of FAO and the World Bank for decades since the Paddy Lands Act of 1958! It is therefore obvious that a two-stage system or a group system of extension had to be devised, either with the extension agent working through farmer leaders, or through a system of group-extension, as envisaged by the Paddy Lands Act. Thus, the Act’s introduction of such a group extension system with farmer education and participation in the planning and implementation of such self-decided programmes of agricultural development was at least 40 years ahead of its time.

Lastly, the tenurial provisions of the Paddy Lands Act needed to be supported by a broader package of institutional support for smallholder agriculture, in order for the Act itself to be effective. Such a package was provided by the establishment of the multipurpose cooperatives, agricultural credit for smallholders, a fertilizer subsidy, a guaranteed price for paddy and a pilot crop insurance scheme. It is important to recognize that the Green Revolution could not have taken off in Sri Lanka around 1967 if the institutional support structure for small-scale paddy farming had not been laid in the late 1950s, alongside and with the Paddy Lands Act.

While the Act provided for an active role by farmers’ organizations (the Cultivation Committees), it is clear that the latter were not neutral farmer organizations. It was known, for example, that the village cooperatives in most countries of South Asia were under the control of the big landlords. The Paddy Lands Act, therefore, went to great lengths to neutralize the overweening power of the landlords by weighting these Committees heavily in favour of the actual cultivators. The landlords, however, retaliated by getting the Cultivation Committees declared legally invalid. This had the effect of cutting off the implementation structure at the knees, with no feet on the ground, making field level implementation impossible.

Thus one of the main laudatory features of the Act, namely, its provision for beneficiary participation, proved also to be its Achilles heel, leading ultimately to its collapse. Although such local farmers’ associations weighted in favour of the actual tillers succeeded in Japan, Taiwan and South Korea, they were supported by martial law, or by military force. In contrast, our Cultivation Committees were subject to a judicial system under the rule of law in a democracy. In fact, it even allowed a President of a Village Tribunal to famously declare from the bench: “Pillippua Parippua-ge kumburu panatha appete epa” (We do not want lousy Phillip’s Paddy Lands Act!)

The Department of Agrarian Services organized rounds of field-level meetings, trying to encourage the Cultivation Committees to hold fast, promising that legal amendments would soon be forthcoming to remedy their legal incapacity. But in fact, these amendments came too late. They were passed only after the landlords had already evicted their tenants, and only after the Cultivation Committees had been seen to have failed in their cultivation and irrigation duties, thus losing the confidence of the farmers themselves.

It is also necessary to consider the socio-political climate in the villages at that time. There was euphoria among the tenant-cultivators and agricultural workers when the Act was passed, heightened by their participation in the formation of the Cultivation Committees, which they felt would support them against arbitrary eviction and higher rents.

This enthusiasm was reflected in other aspects of cultivation too. Fertilizer consumption doubled in the first year of the formation of the Cultivation Committees, but collapsed in the year following their legal invalidation. This collapse caused great demoralization among the cultivators, since they had gained great socio-psychological support from the Committees in standing up for their rights. With their collapse, many tenants surrendered their rights, accepting their plight as “hidden tenants” with no rights under the law. There was chaos in the paddy fields too, since there was no agent/agency left to ensure that the fields were fenced or the water issued. Hence, by the time the Cultivation Committees were re-legalized by the Paddy Lands (Amendment) Acts of 1961 and 1964, the latter served only to close the stable door after the horse had bolted. The Committees never regained the vigour and vibrancy that accompanied the first flush of their formation under the Act of 1958.

Legal and Administrative Challenges: The Collapse of the Cultivation Committees

It is left only to record the legal arguments that led to the collapse of the Cultivation Committees of 1958 – which provides a lesson in itself of how legal finagling can upset progressive legislation. A Cultivation Committee was to consist of twelve (12) members (Section 29). “Of the prescribed number of elected members of the Committee: (a) not less than three-fourths shall be elected by the qualified cultivators……; and (b) not more than one-fourth shall be elected by the qualified owners….” Clearly the intention was to give greater weight in the Committees to the actual cultivators as opposed to the landlords.

In administrative terms, it was clear that there had to be two separate elections: one for the owners to elect their members, and one for the actual cultivators to elect theirs. This required that separate electoral lists be prepared for the owners and separate ones for the cultivators. Given the predictable opposition from the landlords, every name on every electoral list was liable to be challenged, while the elections themselves could be disputed in law. I had pointed this out to Mr. Phillip Gunawardene in my first and only encounter with him.

But there were even more serious problems. Since the law and relevant regulations stipulated that all Cultivation Committees shall have twelve members, the refusal by landlords to elect their representatives would render most of the Committees invalid. This again was a potential problem that I had brought to the notice of the Minister in my initial and only meeting with him – for which I was chased out by him! Faced with this situation on the ground one year later, we took the position (with the agreement of the Attorney-General) that if the landlords failed to elect their three representatives, the cultivators could elect the full twelve members of the Committee, since they (the cultivators) were entitled to elect a number “not less than three-fourths” of the Committee. The landlords then consulted Mr. H. V. Pereira, the highest legal luminary in the country. His brilliant mathematical argument in the appellate court was that since the landlords were to elect “a number “… “not more than one-fourth”, and since the qualified owners had elected nought representatives, and since nought is not a number, the Cultivation Committees were not legally constituted! On this abtruse mathematical argument, the Court decided that the Cultivation Committees were not legally constituted!

All past and future actions of such Committees were also declared null and void! This ruling encouraged the landlords to boycott the Cultivation Committee elections all over the country, thus rendering them legally invalid and their actions legally void. Thus the implementation machinery of the Act at field level was completely demolished on the basis of this legal argument! Since these Committees had by law taken over important irrigation and cultivation functions (the vel vidanes having been abolished) their invalidation led to a breakdown in the common arrangements for cultivation and irrigation, thus causing complete chaos in the field. And the Minister in charge of its implementation (Mr.C.P. de Silva) was not prepared to pass the needed amendments to plug the legal loopholes.

This placed me, as the implementer, in a professionally unenviable position. On the one hand, my duty was to implement the Act; but on the other, my own Minister who was also supposed to be implementing the Act, seemed intent on making its implementation impossible. Nor was he willing to repeal the Act, since it still had popular appeal. Two Commissioners of the Agrarian Services had been transferred out of the Department because they had agreed to sign the needed amendments to plug the loopholes in the Act. After more than two years of this unequal and unsuccessful struggle, I capitulated and sought a transfer out of the Ministry.

(The writer, a former member of the Ceylon Civil Service, later worked for a long period at the UN’s FAO in Rome).

All News Advertisement

Features

Building a sustainable future for Sri Lanka’s construction industry

Published

15 hours ago

2026/05/8

Thilina Walpola

Sri Lanka’s construction industry has long been a central pillar of sustainable development. From roads and bridges to homes, schools, and hospitals, construction shapes the country’s physical landscape and supports economic progress. As the nation continues to rebuild and modernise, the demand for construction materials and infrastructure keeps rising. However, this growth also brings a significant environmental cost. Cement, steel, bricks, aggregates, and timber all require energy, resources, and transportation, contributing to carbon emissions and environmental damage. If Sri Lanka continues with traditional construction practices, the long-term impact on the environment will be severe.

The encouraging news is that Sri Lanka has many opportunities to adopt more sustainable construction practices while still maintaining the highest standards of quality and safety. Sustainable construction does not mean weaker buildings or lower standards. It means using sustainable materials, reducing waste, improving design, and choosing methods that protect the environment. Many countries have already moved in this direction, and Sri Lanka has the potential to follow the same path with solutions that are practical, affordable, and suitable for local conditions.

A promising option

One promising option is the use of Compressed Earth Blocks (CEB), which are different from the concrete blocks commonly used in Sri Lanka for the past 25 years. CEBs are made from soil mixed with a small amount of stabiliser and pressed using machines. Unlike traditional fired clay bricks, CEBs do not require high-temperature kilns, which consume large amounts of firewood or fossil fuels. This makes CEBs a low-carbon alternative with a much smaller environmental footprint. In Sri Lanka, CEBs are already used in eco-resorts, community housing projects, and environmentally focused developments. They offer good strength, durability, and thermal comfort, making them suitable for many types of buildings. By expanding the use of CEBs, Sri Lanka can reduce energy consumption, lower emissions, and promote locally sourced materials.

Recycled aggregates also offer significant potential for sustainable construction. These materials are produced by crushing concrete, demolition waste, and construction debris. In Sri Lanka, recycled aggregates are already used in road construction, particularly for base and sub-base layers. They are suitable for non-structural building work such as pathways, garden paving, drainage layers, landscaping, and backfilling. Using recycled aggregates reduces the need for newly quarried rock and aggregates, decreases landfill waste, and lowers transportation emissions. With proper quality control and standards, recycled aggregates can become a reliable and widely accepted material in the construction industry.

Timber and sustainability

Timber is another important area where sustainability can be improved. In the past, timber for construction was often taken from natural forests, leading to deforestation and loss of biodiversity. Today, this approach is no longer sustainable. Instead, the focus must shift to legally sourced timber from managed plantations. Sri Lanka’s plantation-grown teak, jak, and kubuk can provide high-quality, legally sourced timber for construction while protecting natural forests and supporting rural economies. Using plantation timber ensures that harvesting is controlled, trees are replanted, and the supply chain remains legal and ethical.

Beyond materials, sustainable construction also involves better design and planning. Buildings that are designed to maximise natural ventilation, daylight, and energy efficiency can significantly reduce long-term operating costs. Simple design improvements such as proper orientation, shading devices, roof insulation, and efficient window placement can reduce the need for artificial cooling and lighting. These measures not only lower energy consumption but also improve indoor comfort for occupants. Sri Lanka’s tropical climate offers many opportunities to incorporate passive design strategies that reduce environmental impact without increasing construction costs.

Waste reduction is another key component of sustainable construction. Construction sites often generate large amounts of waste, including concrete, timber offcuts, packaging, and soil. By adopting better site management practices, recycling materials, and planning construction sequences more efficiently, contractors can reduce waste and save money. Proper waste segregation and recycling can also reduce the burden on landfills and minimise environmental pollution.

Promoting sustainable construction

Public projects such as schools, hospitals, and government buildings can play a leading role in promoting sustainable construction. When government projects adopt greener materials and designs, the private sector follows. This creates a positive cycle where environmentally responsible choices become the industry standard. Public sector leadership can also encourage local manufacturers to produce sustainable materials, improve quality standards, and invest in new technologies.

Sri Lanka also carries a proud and remarkable history in construction, with achievements that continue to inspire the world. The engineering brilliance behind Sigiriya, the advanced urban planning of Polonnaruwa, the precision of the Aukana Buddha statue, and the sophisticated water management systems of ancient tanks and reservoirs all demonstrate the deep knowledge our ancestors possessed. These historic accomplishments show that innovation is not new to Sri Lanka; it is part of our identity. As the world moves toward 2050 with increasing sustainability challenges, Sri Lanka can draw strength from this heritage while embracing modern technologies and sustainable practices. With the combined efforts of skilled professionals, industry experts, academic researchers, and strong government support, the country can introduce new systems that improve efficiency, reduce environmental impact, and strengthen resilience. By working together with determination and sharing knowledge across generations, Sri Lanka’s construction industry can build a future that honours its past while leading the way in sustainable development.

Foundation of sustainable development

Sri Lanka’s construction industry has always been a foundation of sustainable development. Today, it also has the chance to take a leading role in sustainability. By choosing sustainable materials, reducing waste, improving design, and supporting responsible sourcing, the country can build a future that is both modern and environmentally responsible. Sustainability is essential for Sri Lanka’s long-term goals of reducing carbon emissions and limiting the impacts of global warming. As Sri Lanka moves forward, the construction industry must embrace sustainability not only as an environmental responsibility but also as an opportunity to create stronger, smarter, and more resilient buildings for future generations. Sri Lanka has the talent, the heritage, and the technical capacity to shape a more sustainable future, and with the right national direction, the construction industry can become a model for the region. If professionals, policymakers, and communities work together with a shared vision, the country can transform its construction sector into one that protects the environment while supporting long-term progress.

About the Author: P.G.R.A.C. Gamlath Menike,

BSc (Hons) Quantity Surveying (University of Reading, UK), MSc Quantity Surveying (University College of Estate Management, UK), MCIArb, Doctoral Student, Department of Building and Real Estate, The Hong Kong Polytechnic University, Hong Kong, is a Senior Quantity Surveyor: Last Project (2022 -2025) Hong Kong International Airport Terminal 2 Construction Project, Gammon Engineering Construction (Main Contractor).

By P.G. R. A. C. Gamlath Menike

Features

Palm leaf manuscripts of Sri Lanka – 1

Published

15 hours ago

2026/05/8

Thilina Walpola

Palm leaf manuscripts

Palm leaf manuscripts have been in existence in Sri Lanka since ancient times. The two oldest palm-leaf manuscripts found in Sri Lanka today are the Cullavagga Pâli manuscript of the H. C. P. Bell collection, which is held at the Library of the National Museum, Colombo, and the Mahavagga Pâli manuscript in the University of Kelaniya collection. Photocopies of both are available at the Library of the University of Peradeniya. Both are dated to 13 century. Cullavagga manuscript has wooden covers richly decorated in lac with a design of flowers and foliage.

Karmmavibhâga

However, the oldest known Sinhala palm leaf manuscript in the world is the Karmmavibhâga which was found in a Tibet monastery in 1936 by the Indian scholar Rahul Sankrityayan. Rahul Sankrityayan, (1893–1963) former Kedarnath Pandey, was an Indian polymath, who searched out rare Buddhist manuscripts on his travels abroad. Sankrityayan visited Sri Lanka as well. Vidyalankara Pirivena is mentioned.

Sankrityayan visited Tibet several times to collect manuscripts from the Buddhist monasteries there. In May 1936 on his second visit to Tibet, Sankrityayan visited the Sa-skya monastery. The Chag-pe-lha-khang Library in this monastery was specially opened for Sankrityayan.

He stated in his autobiography that when the clouds of dust which greeted this rare opening of its doors had subsided, they beheld rows of open racks where volume on volume of manuscripts were kept. “After rummaging around, I came across palm-leaf manuscripts. They were not wrapped in cloth, but were tied between two wooden planks with holes through them.” Sankrityayan found several important manuscripts he had been looking for, in that collection.

Sankrityayan catalogued fifty-seven manuscripts bound in thirty-eight volumes. The thirty-seventh volume was written in the Sinhala script. Sankrityayan records that this volume contained ninety-seven palm- leaves each of which measured 18 1/4 by 1 1/4 in. (46 x 3 cm.) and that there were seven lines of writing on each folio.

According to Sankrityayan, these Sinhala texts originally belonged to a Sri Lankan monk called Anantaśrî who had come to Tibet in the time of ŚSrî Kîrttidhvaja (Kirti Sri Rajasinha). Analysts noted that Sankrityayan does not give the source of this information and the manuscript makes no mention of Anantaśrî.

Sankrityayan had taken with him to Tibet, one Abeyasinghe, (Abhayasimha) to help him with copying manuscripts. They made hand-copies of the important manuscripts. Abhayasimha had copied about 250 to 350 strophes each day. But he fell ill due to the extreme cold and was sent home in June. Abeyasinghe had written letters home during his stay in Tibet.

Photographs of the manuscripts found during Sankrityayan’s expeditions in Tibet are preserved at the National Archives in Colombo. There is also a copy in Vidyalankara pirivena library The Historical Manuscripts Commission In its 1960/1961 report, drew attention to this manuscript, known as Sa-skya Codex, describing it as “a unique document.” (Annual Report of the Government Archivist 1960/61, 1963)

Sinhala scholar P.E.E. Fernando examined photographs of the Sa-skya Codex at the request of the Historical Manuscripts Commission and assigned it to the 13th century. The Historical Manuscripts Commission, dated it to either twelfth or the thirteenth century.

The Historical Manuscripts Commission observed that this manuscript was of great value for the study of the development of the Sinhala script. Ven. Meda Uyangoda Vimalakîrtti and Nähinne Sominda in their edition of the Karmmavibhâga published in 1961 agreed that the Sa-skya Codex represented an early stage in the evolution of the Sinhala language.

Mahavamsa

The Mahavamsa is considered a unique historical document. There is nothing like it in South Asia, and probably all Asia, with the exception of China. Mahavamsa provides a historical account of events, with emphasis on chronology and dating. This, it appears, was rare at the time.

However, Mahavamsa is not a political history, though that is the popular perception of it. It is a religious history. It was written to record the introduction and entrenchment of Buddhism in the country. Other Buddhist countries, such as Cambodia, Burma and Thailand value the Mahavamsa for this reason. They held copies of the Mahavamsa and used events from it in their temple frescoes.

But Mahavamsa is also an important reference source for reconstructing the political history of Sri Lanka. Political and social facts are included in the Mahavamsa narrative when describing religious events, and this makes the Mahavamsa important for historians. This tradition of history writing, beginning with the earlier Sihala Attakatha and Dipawamsa, it is suggested, started in Sri Lanka in 2^nd or 3^rd BC.

Today, the Mahavamsa has become a major source of historical information, not only for dating kings, temples and reservoirs, but also for reconstructing ancient Sinhala society. The fact that Kuveni was seated beside a pond, spinning thread has been used to indicate that there was water management and textiles long before Vijaya arrived. Dutugemunu (161-137 BC) paid a salary to the workers building the Maha Thupa. This shows that money was used at the time.

Copies of the Mahavamsa have been treasured and looked after in Sri Lanka for centuries. They have been copied over and over again. The manuscripts were held in temple libraries because the subject of the Mahavamsa was the entrenchment of Buddhism in Sri Lanka.

The Mahavamsa manuscripts did not pop up suddenly during British rule as people seem to think. The British did not ‘discover’ the Mahavamsa. It was there. When the British administration started to take interest in the history of the island, the sangha would have directed them to the Mahavamsa, in the same way that they directed HCP Bell to the ruins in Anuradhapura and the Sigiriya frescoes. HCP Bell did not discover those either.

The British administrators saw the value of the Mahavamsa and copies were sent to libraries abroad. The Bodleian library, Oxford has a well preserved Mahavamsa manuscript, taken from Mulkirigala, which Turner used for his translation. Cambridge has two Mahavamsa manuscripts. The two copies at India Office library, and the copy in East India Library are probably in the British Library today. The Royal Library, Copenhagen, has a copy, consisting of 129 sheets, 12 lines to a leaf, written in good handwriting.

In Sri Lanka there are several copies of the Mahavamsa in the Colombo Museum Library. One copy, known as the ‘Cambodian Mahavamsa ‘is in Cambodian script. University of Peradeniya has at least three copies.

It is interesting to note that the Mahavamsa was known to the Sinhala elite and some had copies in their private libraries. The Historical Manuscripts Commission of the 1930s said in its first report that five copies of the Mahavamsa and a 19^th century copy of the Dipawamsa were found in private collections.

The temple libraries had many copies of the Mahavamsa. Some were of very high quality. Wilhelm Geiger had looked at the copies held at Mahamanthinda Pirivena, Matara and Mulkirigala vihara. Asgiriya, Nagolla Vihara and Watagedera Sudarmarama Potgul vihara, Matara, are three of the many libraries that held copies of the Mahavamsa.

Sirancee Gunawardene examined the copy at Mahamanthinda Pirivena, Matara, very closely. She says that it is a very old manuscript. According to its colophon, the manuscript was first copied 400 years ago. It is in a very good state of preservation. It has 232 folios. Each 50 cm long 6.25 wide. Nine lines on each side, in Pali metric verse.

The writer of the manuscripts said that his version was an improvement on the copy. He wrote, “I will recite the Mahavamsa which was compiled by ancient sages. [their version] was too long and had many repetitions. This version is free from such faults, easy to understand and remember. It is handed down from tradition, for arousing serene joy and emotion’ .

The Mahamanthinda manuscript records the continuous history of 23 dynasties from 543 BC to 1758 AD. It refers to the principle of hereditary monarchy as 39 eldest sons of reigning monarch succeeded their fathers to the throne. It highlights the fact that fifteen reigned only for one year, 34 for less than four years, 22 kings were murdered by their successors, 6 were killed during battles, 4 committed suicide, 11 were dethroned.

Mahawansa as a World Heritage document

An ola manuscript of the Mahavamsa, held in the Main Library of the University of Peradeniya has been recognised by UNESCO as a part of World Heritage. UNESCO announced In 2023 that it has included the Mahavamsa as one of the 64 items of documentary heritage inscribed in the UNESCO’s Memory of the World International Register for 2023. The manuscript is dated to the early 19 century.

The certificate declaring the Mahawansa as a world heritage document was handed to the Chancellor of Peradeniya University by UNESCO Director General, who visited the University in 2024 specially to do so. She also unveiled a plaque marking the declaration.

The story began much earlier. The National Library of Sri Lanka and the Ministry of Buddha Sasana had jointly appointed a 6-member committee headed by Prof Malani Endagamage, to find the best preserved copy of the Mahavamsa in Sri Lanka. This would have been in 2000 or so. For two years, this team had examined copies from over 100 temples nationwide.

Temples around the country yielded copies, crumbling to well-preserved, reported Sunday Times. There was one from the Ridi Vihara that almost made the cut, but four other copies were shortlisted. One from the Dalada Maligawa, Kandy and three manuscripts from the Main Library of the University of Peradeniya. Three academics from the University’s History Department, Professors K.M. Rohitha Dasanayaka, Mahinda Somathilake and U.S.Y. Sahan Mahesh examined the three Peradeniya manuscripts

Dasanayaka said, “We poured over the copies together, and it became clear that one copy stood out. While the other two had numerous inconsistencies, this one, written in a curvy hand, was neat and beautiful. After more than two centuries, the manuscript was still very attractive, with a ‘flaming cinnamon orange’ cover and elegant lettering.

The first section of the manuscript ends with Mahasen (274–301 AD), written by the monk Mahanama. The second part ends at 1815. The author is given as Ven. Thibbotuwawe Buddharakkhita but he was dead by 1815. The final part was probably done by an acolyte. He has done a very neat job, seamlessly adding his bit, concluded Dasanayake.

This manuscript was acquired by the Library of University of Peradeniya when K. D. Somadasa, was the Librarian (1964 – 1970). It is held in the Main Library and its Accession Number is 277587.

National Library & Documentation Services Board of Sri Lanka, which administers the National Library of Sri Lanka submitted a nomination to UNESCO on behalf of this manuscript. UNESCO responded positively to the application.

UNESCO said the Mahavamsa was recognized as one of the world’s longest unbroken historical accounts, presenting Sri Lanka’s history in a chronological order from the 6th century BCE. The authenticity of the facts provided in the document has been confirmed through archaeological research conducted in Sri Lanka and India.

It is an important historical source in South Asia, said UNESCO. It was the first of its kind in South Asia, initiating a mature historiographical tradition. It has contributed singularly to the identity of Emperor Asoka in Indian history. The existence of a number of manuscripts of the Mahavamsa in several countries as well as the transliteration and translation of the text to several Southeast Asian and European languages stand testimony to its immense historical, cultural, literal, linguistic and scholarly values, .” UNESCO press release said.

Further, UNESCO found that this manuscript was correctly conserved at the University Library. The university and its library maintained high standards in safeguarding the palm-leaf manuscripts, preventing deterioration, declared UNESCO. (Continued)

REFERENCES

https://archives1.dailynews.lk/2021/02/25/local/242520/ola-leaf-mahavamsa-be-declared-world-heritage

Sirancee Gunawardana Palm leaf manuscripts of Sri Lanka . 1977 p 41,44-47 , 253 290 292, ,

N. E. I. Wijerathne Methods, Techniques and Challenges in Deciphering the Sa-skaya Codex. Vidyodaya Journal of Humanities and Social Sciences (2025), Vol. 10 (01) https://journals.sjp.ac.lk/index.php/vjhss/article/view/8571/6001

First report of the Historical Manuscripts Commision.1933 SP 9 of 1933. p . 53, 95, 96

https://journals.sjp.ac.lk/index.php/vjhss/article/view/8571/6001https://www.austriaca.at/0xc1aa5572%200x00314cc3.pdf

https://leftword.com/creator/rahul-sankrityayan/

https://www.reddit.com/r/IndianHistory/comments/1oc5tc2/in_his_autobiography_meri_jeevan_yatra_rahul/

https://www.sundaytimes.lk/230910/plus/in-search-of-the-perfect-mahavamsa-531513.html

https://www.dailymirror.lk/breaking-news/Mahawansa-declared-a-world-heritage/108-287528

https://mfa.gov.lk/en/visit-of-unesco-dg/

https://sundaytimes.lk/online/education/UNESCO-ready-to-support-digitalisation-of-Ola-leaf-books/290-1146314

https://media.unesco.org/sites/default/files/webform/mow001/53_131%252B.pdf

by KAMALIKA PIERIS

Features

A new Sherlock Holmes novel

Published

15 hours ago

2026/05/8

Thilina Walpola

Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 1

“The House of Silk” is set in a grim Victorian winter, and moves from Baker Street to a luxurious suburban villa, from dingy pubs to elegant London clubs, from a correction school for boys high on a hill to Dr Silkin’s House of Wonders, which provided noisy low life entertainment. Holmes and Watson went there in search of the House of Silk, a name they had heard when looking into the death of one of Holmes’ Baker Street irregulars (slum children who ferreted out information for him) .

I do not think highly of sequels to books written by highly regarded writers, though I must admit that this dislike is based on just a few samples. But while in England I was given by my former Dean, with a forceful recommendation, a book about a Sherlock Holmes mystery, supposedly written by Dr Watson. I began on it soon after I got back home, and found it difficult to put down, so I suppose I will not look on Anthony Horowitz as an exception to my rule. I may even look out for his efforts at continuing the adventures of James Bond, though I suspect Fleming’s laconic style will be less easy to emulate.

“The House of Silk” is set in a grim Victorian winter, and moves from Baker Street to a luxurious suburban villa, from dingy pubs to elegant London clubs, from a correction school for boys high on a hill to Dr Silkin’s House of Wonders, which provided noisy low life entertainment. Holmes and Watson went there in search of the House of Silk, a name they had heard when looking into the death of one of Holmes’ Baker Street irregulars (slum children who ferreted out information for him). They had asked Holmes’ brother Mycroft for help in finding what and where this was, but he had warned them off, having been himself told by someone very senior in government that it might involve those in very high positions, and further inquiries might prove dangerous.

Needless to say, Holmes does seek further, and is lured to an opium den where he is drugged, to be found outside with a gun in his hand and the body of a girl beside him, the sister of the murdered boy Ross. A passer-by swears he had seen Holmes fire the shot, and the owner of the opium den and a customer swear that Holmes had taken too much opium and left the den in a demented condition. A police inspector who had been passing promptly arrests Holmes and Watson, and even their old acquaintance Inspector Lestrade finds it difficult to get access to him.

Watson eventually gets to see him when he is in the infirmary, after he has been told by a mysterious man that Holmes was going to be murdered before his case could be taken up. The man said he had earlier tried to get Holmes to investigate the House of Silk by sending him a white silk ribbon, such as had later been found tied round the hand of the murdered boy. But, as a criminal himself, he said, he could not reveal more, though he himself was horrified by the business of the House of Silk, which gave criminality a bad name, which is why he wanted it all stopped.

Holmes escapes from the infirmary, with a little help from the doctor whom he had once assisted earlier, right under the nose of the nasty Inspector Harriman. He then joins up with Watson, and having with the help of Lestrade overcome the men designed to kill him at Dr Silkin’s House of Wonders, he sets off, with an even large posse of policemen, to the House of Silk.

After much suspense, the habitues of the House of Silk are arrested, the Inspector having broken his neck in the course of a chase downhill, having fled when his misdeeds were exposed. The mastermind claims that he will not face a trial because of the important people involved, but instead falls down a staircase while in prison and breaks his neck. One of the noblemen involved commits suicide, but another, and the medical man who had sworn he saw Holmes kill the young lady, get off without charge.

But then we revert to the original story, which had involved an art dealer who came to Holmes because he was being followed by someone he thought was an American gangster out for revenge. This was because he had shipped some pictures to an American buyer, and these had been destroyed when a train was held up by an Irish gang and the coach with the safe in it dynamited. The buyer and the dealer had got a private agency to investigate, and this had ended with the gang being killed in a shootout, though one of the twins who led it had escaped. The buyer had subsequently been killed, and Mr Carstairs feared that the twin who survived had followed him to England.

Holmes and Watson went to Carstairs’ house, where they met his wife, whom he had met on the boat back from America, and his sister. Their mother had died some months earlier, when gas had filled her room after the flame had gone out. It transpired that there had been a break in, and some money and a necklace stolen from a safe, and it was in tracing these, through a pawnbroker, that Holmes and Watson had found the American murdered in the hotel where he had been staying.

The leader of the irregulars had come to tell Holmes that they had traced the man to the hotel, and Ross had been left on guard. He seemed terrified when Holmes and Watson and Carstairs turned up, but said he had seen nothing. When the boys had been dismissed, and the room opened up, the man was found dead, the murderer obviously having gained entrance through a window.

Holmes assumed the boy had seen someone he recognized, but he could not be traced, until he was found dead, horribly tortured. The silk band around his wrist then led Holmes to pursue the House of Silk. One of the boys at the school where Ross had been mentioned that he had a sister at a pub, and she, when confronted, asked in fear if they were from the House of Silk and then, having lunged at Watson with a knife, ran off – herself only to be found dead outside the opium den, which prompted the arrest of Holmes.

After the drama at the House of Silk, Holmes and Watson go to the Carstairs household, where he explains exactly what had taken place, identifying the murdered man as not a member of the gang but the head of the private agency which had investigated them. As my Dean told me, Horowitz then ties up all the loose ends with consummate skill, connecting with a fine thread all the malefactors, of various kinds.