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Sri Lanka’s slide from Perpetual Bonds to Pyramidal Sugar Bags



by Rajan Philips

A political observer with an exceptionally sharp mind offered this online comment recently: “With little on offer as a political alternative, many of us seem to wallow in idle gossip and pin hopes on plain speculation.” Who would disagree? Except to add that gossip, speculations and outbursts are emanating more from within the government than from outside, indicating both frustration and helplessness in government ranks. As well, those who heralded the present government as once-in-a-generation of its kind – headed by the best ever non-political Sri Lankan to seek political office for the sake of the old country after forsaking the new, and those who sang hosanna to the highest from the outside, are now left with sugar on their faces. Literally. The sugar scam is not the only scam. And where there is no scam, there is rampant incompetence.

The question is how could a new government elected with unprecedented double majorities (one for the executive and another for the legislature) have come a cropper so early in its mandate? There was no want of goodwill. Even critics of Gotabaya Rajapaksa wanted the man to succeed as President. For the sake of the country. More so, after Covid-19 struck. And Covid-19 is no longer an excuse. If at all, the pandemic has become the biggest cauldron of examples for government confusion in decision making, crass sloppiness in dealing with medical professionals and scientists, and chaotic incompetence in rolling out Covid-19 vaccines.


One term too many?

One can see the manifestations of internal frustrations in Wimal Weerawansa’s warnings and outbursts, and in the responses and speculations of SLPP Parliamentarians. Mr. Weerawansa, before his latest outburst about Rishad Bathiudeen, was all about crowning President Gotabaya Rajapaksa as leader of the SLPP to let him learn the ropes of politics, as party leader, to become a successful president. The SLPPers, on the other hand, besides accusing Weerawansa of backstabbing and calling for his dismissal, have started speculating about a one-term presidency for Gotabaya Rajapaksa and musing about Basil Rajapaksa as the next patriotic presidential candidate with possible American affirmation.

What is going on? Who is getting tired of whom? After all the struggle of getting a two-thirds majority in parliament, is President Gotabaya Rajapaksa being coaxed and cajoled to limit himself to a single term? Or is it that he has had enough of this powerful but ineffectual presidential charade? Is one term too many even with a two-thirds majority?

Perhaps a more significant manifestation of the government’s internal troubles is in the work of the three parliamentary committees on – Public Finance (COPF), Public Enterprises (COPE) and on Public Accounts (COPA), and in the apparent audacity of their Chairmen, all government MPs (respectively – Anura Priyadarshana Yapa, Charitha Herath and Tissa Vitarana), to act with some independence and without looking for directions from the executive. It is their persistence that is widely believed to have forced Finance Ministry officials to come clean with the chronology of decisions and import activities behind the nearly Rs. 16 billion swindle in importing sugar.

I am inclined to see some difference between the antics of Weerawansa and his SLPP detractors, on the one hand, and the workings of the three parliamentary committees, on the other. Taking note of this difference has some relevance to discussing the current political quagmire and the absence of serious alternatives. And the difference is that the Weerawansa/SLPP responses to the government’s paralysis are an indication of the tired and tatty state of the executive presidency as a political system regardless of who the incumbent president is. As against this, the workings of the parliamentary committees are indicative, no matter how slimly, of the possibilities of parliament in spite of the current presidential incumbent and the two-thirds majority he commands in the legislature.


Bond scam and Sugar scam

Looked at it another way, there are also differences between the way the executive and the legislature responded to the bond scam of the last government, and the way they are responding to the sugar scam of the present government. The last government used parliament to do a more prolonged cover-up job than the present one. The current parliament has done a far more effective policing job with the sugar scam than its predecessor did with the bond scam. The JVP which was on mute mode for most of the bond saga, is now breathing fire and burning the government’s sugar, and has taken the case of the stolen sugar all the way to the Supreme Court. UNP MPs who were all for coverup then until it was too late, are now all reborn SJBers demanding total accountability.

One might also notice other curious similarities and contrasts. There was a Central Banker, the then Governor, no less, Arjuna Mahendran, who was in the eye of the bond storm. There is an indirect connection to the Central Bank now, through the current Finance Secretary, S.R. Attygalle, who is also a former Deputy Governor of the Central Bank, and who has had an interesting career path since then. He was one of the principal public service beneficiaries of the Sirisena-coup government that lasted from October 31 to December 18 in the year of constitutional grace – 2018. President Sirisena appointed Mr. Attygalle as Secretary Treasury displacing Dr. R.H.S. Samaratunga. When the Supreme Court pulled the plug on Sirisena’s childish coup, Attygalle had to give way to Samaratunga. But he was back within a year, and his was one of the first senior appointments by Gotabaya Rajapaksa when he became President in November 2019. Wheels within wheels? It is not only politicians who are caught in the web of unholy alliances, but high-post public servants are also not spared from them.

Back to sugar scam, Mr. Attygalle tried to make the far fetched argument to the Finance Committee that the government did not actually lose any money because of the reduction of import duty on sugar from 50 rupees to 25 cents per kilogram, because the government had not collected any money to lose! But that does not explain how the government set it up so beautifully that the state would not collect any money that should normally have flowed to its coffers. Here is the chronology from what has been quite well reported on the matter. In May 2020, the government raised the special commodity levy (SCL) from Rs 33 to Rs 50 per kilo – with all the good intentions of lowering imports, saving foreign exchange, boosting local production, and, lo and behold, fighting diabetes, obesity, and other sugar ailments. In less than five months, on October 13, the SCL was slashed from Rs 50 per kilo to, not Rs 33 but Rs 0.25, twenty five cents per kilo. The import floodgates were opened.

Between October 14 and February 20, 320,627MT (metric tonnes) of sugar was imported in four months, about 50 to 60% of annual sugar imports between 550,000 to 650,000MT. On November 10, under panic in the face of rising sugar prices and unable to control the flood of imports through licensing and permits, the government imposed maximum retail price (MRP) limits ranging between Rs 80 and Rs 90 per kilo for wholesale and retail sales of bulk and packeted sugar. But the price limits didn’t work either. Sugar prices were between Rs 118 and Rs 125 per kilo during the four month interval. The government forced Lanka Sathosa, the national retailer to sell at the maximum retail price after buying at much higher prices in the wholesale market. In the upshot, the helpless consumers were gouged, nobody knows how many diabetes patients benefited, and the government lost doubly in collections, at the customs gate and at the national retail counter. Yet it was no loss, by Finance Ministry accounting, because there was no money to lose. Remember Greek Bonds?


From Perpetual to Pyramidal

For whose benefit was this sham? The Finance Ministry has reportedly admitted that six major sugar importers potentially “earned a kind of additional profits.” The pie-chart on this page shows the major sugar importers during the October-February window and their import quantities. Leading the pack was Pyramid Wilmar Limited (PWL). An acknowledged giant in global sugar trade, PWL accounted for 40% of the sugar rush and reportedly diverted a shipment meant for another destination to sail to Colombo to take advantage of the slash in Sri Lanka’s import duty. It was not just another shipment that arrived on short notice but, as the Sunday Times reported last week, the largest sugar cargo to dock in Colombo in 30 years, with 26,000MT of sugar in 1,000 containers. PWL was also well positioned to benefit from the slashed duty, because unlike other importers, it was eligible to pay the 25 cents (instead of Rs 50) per kilo duty not only on new imports but also on old stocks held in its bonded warehouse.

It is not only sugar. The same sugar daddy is said to have had a trial run earlier with coconut oil. Except it was no trial run because the swindle was even bigger – Rs. 20 billion, according to reports citing SJB MP Patali Champika Ranawaka. To sugar and coconut oil – add rice, the nation’s staple, and turmeric, the popular Covid-19 neutraliser, and Sri Lanka has the textbook example of what Prof. WD Lakshman, the current Central Bank governor, has described as the government’s “alternative way” of managing the economy.

To elaborate, about a month ago , around February 12, Governor Lakshman was taking to task the “doom and gloom” critics of the government for their failure to appreciate “the government’s determination to move away from the, so far, heavy dependence on imports for foodstuffs.” He called it a “really significant long term policy approach despite in the short run there is an adverse impact in the prices.” He referred to the import ban on turmeric, the immediate price increase, and the eventual stabilization (apparently). “But now nobody is talking about turmeric,” he said. No Sir, now everyone is talking about sugar!

And rice too! There is some confusion in the government about the adequacy of rice/paddy stocks. On Friday, The Island editorial highlighted the confusion within the government whether there is or there isn’t a need to import rice. 100,000 MT of rice should be imported according to some government Ministers, but Basil Rajapaksa, the non-cabinet Task Force Minister has been assuring that there is plenty of paddy in the country. Hoarding is certainly the curse, but isn’t there anyone in the government who knows whether there is enough rice in the country or if it should be imported. As government priorities go, Dr. Tissa Vitarana issued this caution in his weekly Sunday Island statement: “Hunger needs to be overcome before highways and high life!”

Talking about high life and politics, the political connections of Pyramid Wilmar Limited in Sri Lanka are not unlike those of Perpetual Treasuries Limited that was the central entity in the earlier bond scam. Media reports say that the local agent of Pyramid Wilmar, is Sajaad Mohammaed Mowzoon, who is also the proprietor of Shangri-La Hotel. It is well known that it was at Shangri-La that Gotabaya Rajapaksa launched his saubhagya project under the auspices of Viyath Maga. Mr. Mawzoon is also reported to be having business connections to the Adani Group, India’s mover and shaker in port development business among other portfolios. The Adani group has been making waves between the East and the West Container Terminals at the Colombo harbour, and now we hear more than rumours of a potential business partnership between two powerful political benefactors in India and Sri Lanka.

And where high life wrongfully pursued will take you became evident in the Colombo High Court last week, with the indictment of former Finance Minister Ravi Karunanayake and eleven others in connection with the 2016 Central Bank bond auctions. The Court also ordered to remand the accused who showed up till March 23, when the case will be taken up again. Those who stand accused deserve their day in court and to have what they say heard. But indictments in Sri Lanka are not what they used to be before the turn of the century. There is more public cynicism about indictments today than there is respect for them, for their impartiality and consistency. Even so, the indictments served last week are still a reminder that what is sauce for one political goose today can be sauce another goose tomorrow.



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by Jehan Perera

A year after the protest movement took off into a mammoth public display of the popular desire for change, it appears to be no more. What appears on the streets on and off is a pale imitation of the mighty force of people rich and poor, from north and south, who occupied the main roads of downtown Colombo for more than three months. The government under President Ranil Wickremesinghe is leaving no room for the people to get on the streets again. This has been through a combination of both efficient and repressive policies that exceed those of the predecessor government.

The government has addressed the immediate causes that brought the people out on to the streets. The crippling shortages of vehicle fuel and cooking gas that caused long lines stretching for kilometers are not to be seen. There is enough to go around now as the demand for these basic commodities has dropped considerably following the tripling of their prices. There is an outward appearance of normalcy that belies the economic difficulties that the masses of people are facing. The three-wheel driver lamented that his monthly electricity bill of Rs 700 was now Rs 3200 which made keeping his refrigerator unaffordable. Government officers on fixed incomes are struggling to survive having pawned their jewellery and mortgaged their lands for survival. Those who can leave the country seem to be leaving.

The government has also shown it is prepared to use the security system to its maximum. This has won some supporters especially among the upper social classes and ethnic minorities who are always worried whether mobs of the under classes will invade their neighborhoods and subject them to looting and violence. After becoming president, President Wickremesinghe showed his resolve in bringing the protest movement to heel by sending the police to break it up and arrest the leaders. Protestors have been warned that their protests should not inconvenience the general public.

Those who do not heed the police guidelines have found themselves being tear-gassed, baton-charged and arrested. In contrast to the heyday of the protest movement a year ago, any voice of public dissent is liable to be quickly suppressed. A case in point would be that of the unfortunate hooter. As reported extensively in the media, a government minister who was laying a foundation stone for a religious shrine was hooted by a businessman who was travelling in his vehicle. The media reported that “the police acted swiftly, pursuing and apprehending the suspect. He will now be produced before the court for obstructing a religious ceremony.”


The contrast with what happened a year ago could not be more stark. The main slogans of the Aragalaya protests was to arrest the rogues who had bankrupted the country and compel them to bring back to the country their ill-gotten gains. The draft Anti-Terrorist law that has been approved by the Cabinet to replace the Prevention of Terrorism Act is, in many ways, a more repressive law that will encompass a much wider swathe of social and political life. Clause 105 in it defines a “person” who can be taken into custody under this law to mean an individual, an association, organisation or body of persons.” Readers of George Orwell’s classic novel of authoritarian government, “1984” would feel a chill if that new law is passed when they think of protesting against the government.

A key demand of the protest movement last year was the demand for “system change.” At its core this was a desperate call for a change of government that had bankrupted the country and accountability and punishment for those who had impoverished the people by their mis-governance, corruption and indifference to the people’s plight. Another terminology for “systems change” would be to say that the people called for a new “social contract.” The notion of a social contract between rulers and ruled was developed over four centuries ago in Europe by Enlightenment era thinkers such as by John Locke in England and by Jean-Jacques Rousseau in France who gave the name “The Social Contract” to his 1762 book.

The social contract theorists argued that people left the state of nature where without government life was “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short” (as described by their predecessor Thomas Hobbes). People entered into a social contract with those who would govern them. In terms of the social contract, the people would give up some of their rights and freedoms in exchange for protection and order by the government. In modern democracies, people elect their representatives who form the government of the day and look after the best interests of the people. But in March 2022, the people of Sri Lanka felt hat their government had not lived up to the social contract and demanded they leave office and return their ill-gotten gains.


Those who continue to come out on the streets in protest demand elections and also demand to know why the government has not made efforts to bring back the money that was stolen. What is visible at the present time is that most of the government members who were responsible leaders of the previous government continue to remain in positions of power, either frontally or behind the scenes. There continue to be allegations of corruption and abuse of power. In one appalling instance, two government ministers resigned from a watchdog committee they were appointed to. They complained that they were not getting the information they required to play their assigned roles.

Sri Lanka has yet to address the monumental failure of government that took place in the early part of 2022 that plunged the country from a middle income level to a low income level. When the people went out on to the streets to protest and call for a “systems change” they were demanding that the government should step down and go. But it did not go and instead re-arranged itself and continues to be in power. Much to the chagrin of the protest movement, the government they wanted to go has grown stronger under the leadership of President Ranil Wickremesinghe and is ignoring the demand for “system change” and those who call for local government elections which are overdue.

Speaking to students at Harvard University last week through the internet, President Wickremesinghe made it known that the government would abide by the Supreme Court’s decision with regard to the elections. A confrontation involving the three branches of government would signify a “systems breakdown” in place of the “systems change” that people fought for a year ago. The president has also taken pride in announcing that the government will soon be passing into law the best anti-corruption legislation in South Asia in parliament soon. If the president’s vision of sustainable political stability and economic recovery is not to be a re-enactment of the Orwellian dystopia of 1984, there needs to indeed be a “systems change”, a plan for the future prepared in consultation with the opposition and civil society and a new “social contract” in which elections would be the first step.

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Free Education, Social Welfare and the IMF Programme



by Ahilan Kadirgamar

Sri Lanka’s seventeenth IMF agreement sealed last week may well prove to be the most devastating one of them all. The reason is that the agreement comes along with Sri Lanka having defaulted on its external debt for the first time in its history. The IMF amounts to being the arbiter of the debt restructuring process with Sri Lanka’s external creditors, which will provide considerable leverage for Sri Lanka to be held accountable to IMF conditionalities.

The fallout of the IMF package will be wide and deep, greater than the Structural Adjustment Programm e with the IMF in the late 1970s, when our cherished social welfare system came under attack. In this Kuppi column, I address some of the dangers facing our education system. Education is inextricably linked to welfare and democracy, and in the years ahead the nexus of the IMF and the current avatar of the neoliberal state are likely to impose an authoritarian regime of dispossession. The future of Free Education in our country now depends on tremendous resistance by our students and teachers along with solidarity from all quarters of the working people.

Welfare and democracy

Social welfare in Sri Lanka reaches back to the 1940s. It included food subsides, free education and free healthcare, which were all universal schemes. The IMF packages and the World Bank programmes since the neoliberal turn in the late 1970s have consistently attempted to weaken such universal social welfare programs in the interest of creating a market economy, including through the commercialisation of education and healthcare. Neoliberal ideology privileges the individual, and by the same token places the entire burden of wellbeing on the individual. As the British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher—who, along with US President Ronald Reagan, initiated the neoliberal age on a global scale—famously said, “there is no such thing as society”.

This rejection of society is at the heart of the attack on social welfare, as the IMF and World Bank are now in the process of changing the very idea of social welfare itself into a narrow concept of targeted cash transfer programmes. This attack on the social aspect of welfare entails both granting enormous discretionary power to those in power to determine which individuals can obtain minimal support, in addition to the monetisation of such entitlements, which over time would likely be reduced or inflated away.

Historically, universal social welfare came after the policy of universal adult franchise in 1931. Furthermore, universal free education policies, as they emerged in the mid-1940s, were framed in terms of strengthening the ability of Sri Lanka’s citizens to exercise power through their democracy. In this context, today’s attack on universal social welfare is a key part of the agenda of an illegitimate and undemocratic regime in power. Moreover, the regime’s vision of the education system derives from the IMF’s technocratic assumption that the goal should be to create subservient employees for a market economy, rather than democratic-minded people who can become agents of social, economic and political change.

Austerity, dispossession, and resistance

The attack on education is not only ideological, in terms of the neoliberal emphasis on individualism. The austerity measures that are inherent to the current IMF programme are also material. They are bound to reduce the allocations for education. The Government is being forced to find avenues to create a primary budget surplus by next year. This will further lead to initiatives for the commercialisation of education; for example, the expansion of fee-levying programs in the state university system, loan schemes for education, and the initiation of private educational institutions, including private universities.

The logic of the IMF programme and the unfolding developments will dispossess people of one of their most important social welfare entitlements: education. There is already evidence of rising school dropouts, of children not being sent regularly to school, children fainting at school due to the lack of food, and children having to labour for their existence. University students are finding transport costs unaffordable and even lunch packets are becoming out of their reach. These are the consequences of a contracting economy due to the austerity measures that have been imposed. Indeed, our economy has contracted by as much as a fifth over the last few years. The critical gains of social welfare made after the Great Depression of the 1930s in our country are now in danger of being completely rolled back because of the ongoing economic depression along with the IMF programme making it worse.

The dismal prospects for our country can only be addressed by solidarity and resistance. We need to regain our sense of social belonging, which was undone through the very attack by neoliberalism on the idea of society, while taking forward the struggle for democracy. The great struggles last year that dislodged an authoritarian populist president provide hope that despite decades of neoliberal policies, working people’s capacity to envision society, solidarity, and resistance are very much alive.

We are going through the most painful period of our postcolonial history. It is a moment in which, even as our economy is collapsing, our elite are working in cahoots with the IMF and global finance capital, which have achieved a stranglehold on us by leveraging the default and the bankrupt state of our country. In the context of this existential danger, for those of us concerned about safeguarding free education and, for that matter, any meaningful system of education, this time around that struggle must begin from a broader defence of social welfare and democracy.

The author is attached to the Department of Sociology at the University of Jaffna

Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.

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The Box of Delights – II



Seeing through testing times and future

Text of the keynote address by Prof Rajiva Wijesinha
at the 8th International Research Conference on Humanities and Social Sciences,

University of Sri Jayewardenepura on 16 March, 2023.

Sadly, too, the GELT materials we produced are now forgotten, though in the end they were taken up by Cambridge University Press in India and prescribed too at some Indian universities. But in this country producing materials is a way of making money and so, though three years ago the UGC asked about using our materials again, they were prevented from making use of these, and individual universities demanded autonomy and nothing went forward as swiftly as our poor youngsters needed.

Delay also affected the curriculum reform I initiated when I chaired the NIE AAB [Academic Affairs Board]. I had told the then Education Secretary Tara de Mel that we should move immediately, but for once that normally efficient lady was diffident, and said we should wait. Six months later she told me to go ahead, and we did, swiftly, but then Chandrika Kumaratunga lost a year of her Presidency through carelessness and the new President and his Minister simply did not understand the need for continuity, and the vital changes we had embarked on were forgotten.

But Mahinda Rajapaksa and Susil Premjayanth did continue with perhaps the most important initiative begun under Tara—the English medium in secondary schools in the government system. That had begun in 2001, but was sabotaged by Ranil Wickremesinghe, who became Prime Minister at the end of that year. But his Minister of Education, Karunasena Kodituwakku, a former Vice-Chancellor of this University, was more enlightened, and ignored Ranil’s instructions that he halt the programme, and it continued. He was lucky not to be tear-gassed, but, in those days, there were some restraints on unbridled authority with the forces then more supportive of alternatives.

But the teacher training programme I had started with support from Paru and Oranee, had to stop. The NIE then took that over and completely destroyed the learner friendly approach we had initiated, with its hierarchy promoting formulas, such as three Ts and then five Es and seven Ks, gloriously asserted in lengthy sentences such as ‘Also the teacher should closely observe the children learning, identifying students’ activities, disabilities, providing feedback, developing the learning capacities of the students and making implements to extend the learning and teaching outside the classroom are some other tasks expected from the teacher.

As I commented on this in English and Education: In Search of Equity and Excellence?, ‘It might seem churlish to cavil about the two main verbs in this sentence, were this not an instructional guide to English teachers, with three language editors who have doubtless been well paid for their pains, or the lack of them.

Training then was in the hands of the NIE, and the programme began to flounder. But, fortunately, the contract to produce books had been for two years, and Nirmali continued in charge of this, so at least a good foundation was laid, though after that the Ministry and the NIE took over and the usual tedious stuff was reintroduced. Our efforts to introduce wider knowledge, and creative thinking, were abandoned totally, unsurprising given the ignorance I had found in those entrusted with producing textbooks at the NIE (which managed once to produce a history syllabus which left out the French and the Industrial Revolutions in the whole secondary school curriculum). Let me, to prove my point, give you an extract from what the NIE managed to produce

‘Red the story …

Hello! We are going to the zoo. “Do you like to join us” asked Sylvia. “Sorry, I can’t I’m going to the library now. Anyway have a nice time” bye.

So Syliva went to the zoo with her parents. At the entrance her father bought tickets. First, they went to see the monkeys

She looked at a monkey. It made a funny face and started swinging Sylvia shouted.

“He is swinging look now it is hanging from its tail it’s marvellous”

“Monkey usually do that’

And, so it seems does the NIE, was my comment. Unfortunately, I cannot in a speech make clear the carelessness with regard to punctuation and spelling, but a printed version will show just how appalling the NIE usage of English is and the callousness of inflicting half-baked stuff on our children.

Despite all this English medium has survived, but that it could have done so much better is obvious from the continuing proliferation of private English medium schools. Interestingly, the former Permanent Secretary to the Ministry of Education, Dharmasiri Peiris, whom I met after many years, reminded me that in the early nineties he had wanted me to work at the Ministry to remedy the situation, but he had abandoned the effort when officials at the Ministry opposed this, understandably so given that I do not tolerate nonsense. And though Tara was made of sterner stuff, and did make use of my services, two changes of regime before things could be consolidated meant that our children still get short shrift as far as English Language Learning is concerned.

I have spoken thus far of English at university level and in schools. I have also worked on English for vocational training, first thirty years ago when the World University Service of Canada commissioned a basic textbook for those starting on vocational training, then more comprehensively when I chaired the Tertiary and Vocational Education Commission.

Having discovered that what were termed NVQ Levels 1 and 2, supposed to prepare youngsters for vocational training, hardly existed, I started Career Skills courses at those levels, to develop other soft skills and in particular English capacity, and these rapidly became the most popular courses in the system. After all, I had done a trawl and found that parents wanted something for their children to do in the fallow period after the Ordinary Level examination. Uniquely, Sri Lanka wastes the time of its youngsters by delaying the resumption of school, a boon to the tuition industry which embarks on recruitment and hooks youngsters for the next few years.

Needless to say, when I was sacked, the English courses were abolished, and successive Ministers of Education, who now have charge also of vocational education, bleat about the need for more English but do nothing to promote this. Least of all do they think of learning from the past, and far from reinventing the wheel, they simply talk about movement while allowing all means of transport to be dismantled, with parents and children who have been left in the lurch turning if they can to private education, tuition in particular.

As your former Vice-Chancellor perceptively put it, when I was last here, the education system is abandoned by those who have the means to pursue alternatives, and it is only the most deprived who cling to it. And whereas any country with a conscience would do its best by the deprived, decision makers in Sri Lanka do not care about them – like the Mr Lokubandara, who ranted against English in the state system and sent his son to an international school, and then when I reprimanded him told me sanctimoniously that it was his wife who had insisted on that.

Is there then no hope? I fear not, and now I can understand the despair of Mabel Layton in Paul Scott’s brilliant analysis of the failure of the British in imperialism, and her lament that “I thought there might be some changes, but there aren’t. It’s all exactly as it was when I first saw it more than forty years ago. I can’t even be angry. But someone ought to be.”’ I rather fear then that your Vice-Chancellor’s observation will prove even more apposite in the years to come. There was a brief moment three years ago, when covid first hit us, when I thought the system would bestir itself to provide alternatives, but I fear nothing of the sort happened.

But let me end now with what should have happened. Given that the onset of covid saw closure of schools and institutions, there should have been efforts to develop curricula appropriate for a time when face to face contact would not be easy. And this required, as I started by saying, thinking as learners do, and tailoring the content of curricula, as well as systems to convey it, to the abilities of learners, not teachers.

This was particularly important in the context of 2020 in which learners had limited access to teachers. But our decision makers could not think on these lines, nor understand that the key to this was simple materials, that are not just user friendly but that will allow learners to gain not only knowledge but also relevant thinking skills on their own. Provision could and should have been made for guidance, but this had to be minimal, and also provided through small group clusters, where students could learn from each other, in addition to getting guidance at a higher level as available. I recall vividly the brilliant initiative of Oranee Jansz, in insisting that all GELT students not only did a project, but that they dramatized this. This proved a wonderful motivating factor, and students in the remotest of areas worked hard together, and the synergy they developed, to use one of Oranee’s favourite words, led to rapid learning by even those who had been initially very weak.

Such a system was especially important for youngsters in rural communities, and could have been activated in 2020, at a time when communication was difficult, and where the panacea authorities developed, of online contact, was not easy, and in many instances not even possible. But as I have noted, those rural communities are of no concern to our decision makers, whose main motivation is to have their children advance through educational systems different from those the majority of our children have to undergo. They are not at all like Oranee, or one of the academics I remember most fondly from my time at this university, Prof Wickremaarachchi, who started an accountancy course in English medium only, and noted that one had failed as a teacher if one’s students did not end up better than oneself.

To continue, in the midst of a country in a desperate plight, with the positives this university could develop, I will revert to the last time I was here, in December, and highlight again the initiative I mentioned when I began, to work through the national library system to promote English through entertainment for early learners. The project which has been developed suggests at last, after two decades, an effective approach to extending opportunities and means of learning.

This can easily be taken further, at all levels – and work on this has begun – to fill gaps that the state has sedulously ignored for several decades. Costs would be minimal, if only innovators such as the personnel here responsible for the initiative were given a free hand. I can only hope that, with the support of the hierarchy here, and the other players who have combined to take this forward, from the Governor of the Northern Province to the Chairman of the National Library Services Board, that this initiative will lead to the proliferation of user friendly materials and personnel able to use them productively.

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