Features
Libya makes waves as the Non-Aligned Conference kicks off in 1976
(Excerpted from the autobiography of MDD Peiris, Secretary to the Prime Minister)
On August 6, the Prime Minister despatched me to meet President Gopallawa, and brief him on all the arrangements for the Non-Aligned Conference. The President was always dressed in spotless white cloth and a kind of formal white tunic top. He was simple in his speech, soft spoken and courteous. He also possessed a self-depreciating kind of humour. One day he told me that in 1972, when we became a Republic and the Governor General became President, he used to sometimes telephone someone and say that he was the President speaking, and invariably they asked “President of what?”
He obviously derived a great deal of simple amusement from such experiences. But behind his kindness and simplicity lay an acute intelligence, and an ability for unruffled and balanced judgment. This made him an effective non-executive President. The President listened carefully to the briefing; took down a few notes; asked a few questions; and as always, had some useful suggestions to offer. It was always a pleasure to deal with him.
A thorny security issue
We were now very close to the beginning of the conference and much of our time was spent on conference issues. Whilst Ministries such as the Ministry of Defence and Foreign Affairs functioned as specialized units covering their areas of responsibility, the Prime Minister’s office became a central clearing house for issues coming in from all the concerned Ministries and agencies. Decisions, now had to be taken almost immediately, because otherwise, some important activity would be held up, and that hold up invariably would impinge on other activities in a kind of chain reaction.
It was in this context, that an immediate decision had to be taken on an important security issue. The back up delegations, including the personal security details of various heads of state and government were now flying in. I have already mentioned the nervousness of the Egyptians about President Gaddafi and the Libyan delegation. One night, after an exhausting day for the Prime Minister and most of us, she and I were seated at the long main dining table at Temple Trees at about 11.30 in the night. We were finalizing some urgent matters, which had to be attended to before we could think of sleep.
The telephone switchboard operator buzzed us and said that there was an urgent call from General Attygalle, the Commander of the Army, from the airport at Katunayake. The Prime Minister had ordered the stationing of senior security forces personnel at the airport during this time, and General Attygalle was personally detailed this day because of several important back up and security delegations arriving, including the Libyans. We had obtained and installed special x-ray machines at the airport and all baggage were screened.
General Attygalle’s urgent call was now about the advance Libyan contingent that had arrived and were refusing to have their main baggage x-rayed or examined on grounds of diplomatic immunity. X-rays had already shown that some of the personnel were carrying pistols. They did not want the baggage examined. This had become both a security and a diplomatic issue and the General wished to have instructions as to what to do.
There was no time for committees or consultations. A decision had to be taken immediately. The Prime Minister and I discussed the matter briefly, after which she issued strict instructions that under no circumstances was any single un-xrayed piece of baggage be permitted to be brought in by any delegation or anybody. The Libyans were to be told that they had three options. One was to permit the x-rays and other checks. The second was to keep on the aircraft any baggage which they did not wished checked, and the aircraft to be guarded by the Sri Lankan security forces 24 hours a day until their departure. If they were not agreeable to these, the third option was for the aircraft to be refueled and for them to leave.
General Attygalle was happy. These were clear and unambiguous instructions. He rang off. The time was well past midnight and the Prime Minister appeared to be exceedingly weary. I advised her to get some sleep, and said that I would tell the Temple Trees switchboard to direct any further calls to me at home, and that I would wake her, only if I considered it important enough to do so. She thanked me and agreed. Fortunately, there were only two other calls that night, and both came before I fell asleep. One of them was from General Attygalle to announce that the Libyan’s bags were sent back to the aircraft. This fell in line with option two, which meant that a special guard was placed on that aircraft. So another working day ended, when the next day had already dawned.
Preliminary meetings before the summit
We were on a roster to meet and greet the delegations that were flying in for the conference and 8 a.m. to 12 noon on August 7 was my turn to welcome the Foreign Secretaries who were arriving. On the morning of August 9, the large Coordinating Bureau meeting of the conference had its first session. These meetings continued during the afternoon of the following three days. Important procedural and other matters were discussed and agreement reached in time to report to the Foreign Ministers’ meeting, which began work on Aug. 12th. The Foreign Ministers themselves met for three days and smoothed out many matters.
All these meetings were at the BMICH. A second Prime Minister’s office was opened in a suite of rooms at the conference hall and I now worked from there. There was a great deal of co-ordination and trouble-shooting to be done. I had to strengthen this office with high quality experienced personnel. Mr. Nihal Jayawickrema, Secretary to the Ministry of Justice, and Mr. M. Sanmuganathan, by now Secretary, Constitutional Affairs kindly accepted my invitation to work in the office. They possessed experience, maturity and judgement and were of immense assistance in the large task of general co-ordination.
This arrangement was all the more important since the Prime Minister wanted me to sit in when Heads of State and Government and Foreign Ministers called on her at her own temporarily set up office at the BMICH. Scheduling these appointments and sitting in took a great deal of time, and on practically everyday, we finished well past 1 a.m. As far as my personal schedule was concerned, ever since the beginning of the Co-ordinating Bureau meeting, and until the end of the conference, a period of about 19 days, there wasn’t a single day where I could get to bed before 2 a.m. By 8 a.m. I was back again.
Vernon Mendis was to be the Secretary General of the Conference. He was the Director-General of Foreign Affairs in the Foreign Ministry, the most senior position that could be held by a Foreign Service Officer at the time. Vernon was scholarly, widely read and greatly experienced. He also possessed the confidence, energy and drive to make a success of his formidable new assignment.
Beginning of the main conference
The main conference of the Heads of State and Government began on the morning of August 16. The heads of delegations were to be brought in a series of motorcades, from the hotels they were staying, which hotels in fact were completely taken over for the conference, with no other guests permitted. The motorcades consisted of a number of cars, for the heads of delegations, other important members of the delegation and security vehicles. Each motorcade was led by a police pilot car with flashing lights. A
large number of new cars were purchased and brought down for the conference.
Each Head of Delegation had a middle level officer of the Army, Navy or Airforce attached to him or her as a liaison officer who rode in the main car. Each motorcade was to stop at the main porch at the entrance to the hall. From here, after climbing a few steps the Head of State or Government accompanied by his liaison officer smartly turned out, walked along a red carpet towards the main door leading to the foyer of the hall. Near this door stood the Prime Minister to receive the participants. Directly opposite her, on the other side of the red carpet stood a formidable array of photographers and TV camera crews, representing the World’s press and media.
In making the final arrangements, the Prime Minister did not wish to stand alone. There was no Foreign Minister to stand with her because she was also the Foreign Minister. In fact, after discussion and mutual agreement, Minister Felix Dias Bandaranaike, had been elected by the countries to Chair the Foreign Ministers meeting in view of the prevailing position in Sri Lanka. The Prime Minister, therefore, asked WT Jayasinghe the Foreign Secretary; Dr. Mackie Ratwatte her Private Secretary and myself to stand with her at the entrance to the hall.
Superintendent of Police Leo Perera and his team were in charge of motorcade arrangements and traffic control. The delegations were to arrive according to the alphabetical order of the participating countries. Therefore, President Boumadienne of Algeria, who at the time of writing happened to be the current Chairman of the Nonaligned movement, consequent to the fourth Non-aligned summit held in Algeria, was to arrive first, not because he was Chairman, but according to alphabetical order.
The instructions were that the first motorcade should arrive at the hall at 9 a.m. followed by the others. To the credit of S.P. Leo Perera and his officers, President Boumadienne arrived at the BMICH on the dot at 9 a.m. followed by the others in an unending procession for the next one hour twenty minutes or so. The inauguration of the conference was to be at 11 a.m. which was going to be a short formal session which passed the Chairmanship from Algeria to Sri Lanka. The Prime Minister was due to make her inaugural address, followed by some votes of thanks and then the passing over of the Chairmanship.
Standing by the Prime Minister, we had nothing to do but to watch the impressive spectacle unfolding before our eyes. Yugoslavia had sent a ship that was anchored in the harbour and President Tito and his wife stayed on board, rather than in a hotel. They had also got down a bullet proof Mercedes Benz stretch limousine, for their travel in Sri Lanka.
The Indian Prime Minister, Mrs. Gandhi had informed us that she was flying in from Bangalore, and that she could be a bit late, but would try to get in by about 10.30 a.m. Special arrangements were made, the moment she arrived to fly her by helicopter to the Saracens grounds, now the Air Force grounds in Slave Island, from where her motorcade was to commence. Everything went very smoothly. All the delegations had arrived by about 10.15 a.m. except the Indian Prime Minister.
The Prime Minister decided to wait for her. We soon received information from the police that she had arrived and was on her way. At around 10.30 a.m. Mrs. Gandhi arrived, and began walking down the red carpet in her customarily brisk manner. At this point, I was confronted with a totally unexpected and most surprising question. The Prime Minister turned to me and asked with a note of urgency in her voice, “Dharmasiri, how do I greet her?” I of course knew that on the previous occasions they had met, they had kissed and greeted each other. The Prime Minister certainly knew that. But the problem seemed to be that she suddenly felt shy to do this in front of literally hundreds of newspaper photographers and TV cameras.
The TV cameras were already rolling and we were bathed in powerful strobe lights. Secretaries to Prime Ministers, no doubt, are compelled to face many unexpected situations during their careers. This was however, one of the most unexpected. There was no time for consultation or contemplation. Mrs. Gandhi was now within a few yards of the Prime Minister. I said “Kiss her.” What happened thereafter was spontaneous, and I believe had nothing to do with any advice. The two Prime Ministers naturally and unselfconsciously embraced, and the next morning’s newspapers carried this charming picture on their front pages.
Features
Ethnic-related problems need solutions now
In the space of 15 months, President Anura Kumara Dissanayake has visited the North of the country more than any other president or prime minister. These were not flying visits either. The president most recent visit to Jaffna last week was on the occasion of Thai Pongal to celebrate the harvest and the dawning of a new season. During the two days he spent in Jaffna, the president launched the national housing project, announced plans to renovate Palaly Airport, to expedite operations at the Kankesanthurai Port, and pledged once again that racism would have no place in the country.
There is no doubt that the president’s consistent presence in the north has had a reassuring effect. His public rejection of racism and his willingness to engage openly with ethnic and religious minorities have helped secure his acceptance as a national leader rather than a communal one. In the fifteen months since he won the presidential election, there have been no inter community clashes of any significance. In a country with a long history of communal tension, this relative calm is not accidental. It reflects a conscious political choice to lower the racial temperature rather than inflame it.
But preventing new problems is only part of the task of governing. While the government under President Dissanayake has taken responsibility for ensuring that anti-minority actions are not permitted on its watch, it has yet to take comparable responsibility for resolving long standing ethnic and political problems inherited from previous governments. These problems may appear manageable because they have existed for years, even decades. Yet their persistence does not make them innocuous. Beneath the surface, they continue to weaken trust in the state and erode confidence in its ability to deliver justice.
Core Principle
A core principle of governance is responsibility for outcomes, not just intentions. Governments do not begin with a clean slate. Governments do not get to choose only the problems they like. They inherit the state in full, with all its unresolved disputes, injustices and problemmatic legacies. To argue that these are someone else’s past mistakes is politically convenient but institutionally dangerous. Unresolved problems have a habit of resurfacing at the most inconvenient moments, often when a government is trying to push through reforms or stabilise the economy.
This reality was underlined in Geneva last week when concerns were raised once again about allegations of sexual abuse that occurred during the war, affecting both men and women who were taken into government custody. Any sense that this issue had faded from international attention was dispelled by the release of a report by the Office of the Human Rights High Commissioner titled “Sri Lanka: Report on conflict related sexual violence”, dated 13.01.26. Such reports do not emerge in a vacuum. They are shaped by the absence of credible domestic processes that investigate allegations, establish accountability and offer redress. They also shape international perceptions, influence diplomatic relationships and affect access to cooperation and support.
Other unresolved problems from the past continue to fester. These include the continued detention of Tamil prisoners under the Prevention of Terrorism Act, in some cases for many years without conclusion, the failure to return civilian owned land taken over by the military during the war, and the fate of thousands of missing persons whose families still seek answers. These are not marginal issues even when they are not at the centre stage. They affect real lives and entire communities. Their cumulative effect is corrosive, undermining efforts to restore normalcy and rebuild confidence in public institutions.
Equal Rights
Another area where delay will prove costly is the resettlement of Malaiyaha Tamil communities affected by the recent cyclone in the central hills, which was the worst affected region in the country. Even as President Dissanayake celebrated Thai Pongal in Jaffna to the appreciation of the people there, Malaiyaha Tamils engaged in peaceful campaigns to bring attention to their unresolved problems. In Colombo at the Liberty Roundabout, a number of them gathered to symbolically celebrate Thai Pongal while also bringing national attention to the issues of their community, in particular the problem of displacement after the cyclone.
The impact of the cyclone, and the likelihood of future ones under conditions of climate change, make it necessary for the displaced Malaiyaha Tamils to be found new places of residence. This is also an opportunity to tackle the problem of their landlessness in a comprehensive manner and make up for decades if not two centuries of inequity.
Planning for relocation and secure housing is good governance. This needs to be done soon. Climate related disasters do not respect political timetables. They punish delay and indecision. A government that prides itself on system change cannot respond to such challenges with temporary fixes.
The government appears concerned that finding new places for the Malaiyaha Tamil people to be resettled will lead to land being taken away from plantation companies which are said to be already struggling for survival. Due to the economic crisis the country has faced since it went bankrupt in 2022, the government has been deferential to the needs of company owners who are receiving most favoured treatment. As a result, the government is contemplating solutions such as high rise apartments and townhouse style housing to minimise the use of land.
Such solutions cannot substitute for a comprehensive strategy that includes consultations with the affected population and addresses their safety, livelihoods and community stability.
Lose Trust
Most of those who voted for the government at the last elections did so in the hope that it would bring about system change. They did not vote for the government to reinforce the same patterns that the old system represented. At its core, system change means rebalancing priorities. It means recognising that economic efficiency without social justice is a short-term gain with long-term costs. It means understanding that unresolved ethnic grievances, unaddressed wartime abuses and unequal responses to disaster will eventually undermine any development programme, no matter how well designed. Governance that postpones difficult decisions may buy time, but lose trust.
The coming year will therefore be decisive. The government must show that its commitment to non racism and inclusion extends beyond conflict prevention to conflict resolution. Addressing conflict related abuses, concluding long standing detentions, returning land, accounting for the missing and securing dignified resettlement for displaced communities are not distractions from the government programme. They are central to it. A government committed to genuine change must address the problems it inherited, or run the risk of being overwhelmed when those problems finally demand settlement.
by Jehan Perera
Features
Education. Reform. Disaster: A Critical Pedagogical Approach
This Kuppi writing aims to engage critically with the current discussion on the reform initiative “Transforming General Education in Sri Lanka 2025,” focusing on institutional and structural changes, including the integration of a digitally driven model alongside curriculum development, teacher training, and assessment reforms. By engaging with these proposed institutional and structural changes through the parameters of the division and recognition of labour, welfare and distribution systems, and lived ground realities, the article develops a critical perspective on the current reform discourse. By examining both the historical context and the present moment, the article argues that these institutional and structural changes attempt to align education with a neoliberal agenda aimed at enhancing the global corporate sector by producing “skilled” labour. This agenda is further evaluated through the pedagogical approach of socialist feminist scholarship. While the reforms aim to produce a ‘skilled workforce with financial literacy,’ this writing raises a critical question: whose labour will be exploited to achieve this goal? Why and What Reform to Education
In exploring why, the government of Sri Lanka seeks to introduce reforms to the current education system, the Prime Minister and Minister of Education, Higher Education, and Vocational Education, Dr. Harini Amarasuriya, revealed in a recent interview on 15 January 2026 on News First Sri Lanka that such reforms are a pressing necessity. According to the philosophical tradition of education reform, curriculum revision and prevailing learning and teaching structures are expected every eight years; however, Sri Lanka has not undertaken such revisions for the past ten years. The renewal of education is therefore necessary, as the current system produces structural issues, including inequality in access to quality education and the need to create labour suited to the modern world. Citing her words, the reforms aim to create “intelligent, civil-minded citizens” in order to build a country where people live in a civilised manner, work happily, uphold democratic principles, and live dignified lives.
Interpreting her narrative, I claim that the reform is intended to produce, shape, and develop a workforce for the neoliberal economy, now centralised around artificial intelligence and machine learning. My socialist feminist perspective explains this further, referring to Rosa Luxemburg’s reading on reforms for social transformation. As Luxemburg notes, although the final goal of reform is to transform the existing order into a better and more advanced system: The question remains: does this new order truly serve the working class? In the case of education, the reform aims to transform children into “intelligent, civil-minded citizens.” Yet, will the neoliberal economy they enter, and the advanced technological industries that shape it, truly provide them a better life, when these industries primarily seek surplus profit?
History suggests otherwise. Sri Lanka has repeatedly remained at the primary manufacturing level within neoliberal industries. The ready-made garment industry, part of the global corporate fashion system, provides evidence: it exploited both manufacturing labourers and brand representatives during structural economic changes in the 1980s. The same pattern now threatens to repeat in the artificial intelligence sector, raising concerns about who truly benefits from these education reforms
That historical material supports the claim that the primary manufacturing labour for the artificial intelligence industry will similarly come from these workers, who are now being trained as skilled employees who follow the system rather than question it. This context can be theorised through Luxemburg’s claim that critical thinking training becomes a privileged instrument, alienating the working class from such training, an approach that neoliberalism prefers to adopt in the global South.
Institutional and Structural Gaps
Though the government aims to address the institutional and structural gaps, I claim that these gaps will instead widen due to the deeply rooted system of uneven distribution in the country. While agreeing to establish smart classrooms, the critical query is the absence of a wide technological welfare system across the country. From electricity to smart equipment, resources remain inadequate, and the government lags behind in taking prompt initiative to meet these requirements.
This issue is not only about the unavailability of human and material infrastructure, but also about the absence of a plan to restore smart normalcy after natural disasters, particularly the resumption of smart network connections. Access to smart learning platforms, such as the internet, for schoolchildren is a high-risk factor that requires not only the monitoring of classroom teachers but also the involvement of the state. The state needs to be vigilant of abuses and disinformation present in the smart-learning space, an area in which Sri Lanka is still lagging. This concern is not only about the safety of children but also about the safety of women. For example, the recent case of abusive image production via Elon Musk’s AI chatbox, X, highlights the urgent need for a legal framework in Sri Lanka.
Considering its geographical location, Sri Lanka is highly vulnerable to natural disasters, the frequency in which they occur, increasing, owing to climate change. Ditwah is a recent example, where villages were buried alive by landslides, rivers overflowed, and families were displaced, losing homes that they had built over their lifetimes. The critical question, then, is: despite the government’s promise to integrate climate change into the curriculum, how can something still ‘in the air ‘with climate adaptation plans yet to be fully established, be effectively incorporated into schools?
Looking at the demographic map of the country, the expansion of the elderly population, the dependent category, requires attention. Considering the physical and psychological conditions of this group, fostering “intelligent, civic-minded” citizens necessitates understanding the elderly not as a charity case but as a human group deserving dignity. This reflects a critical reading of the reform content: what, indeed, is to be taught? This critical aspect further links with the next section of reflective of ground reality.
Reflective Narrative of Ground Reality
Despite the government asserting that the “teacher” is central to this reform, critical engagement requires examining how their labour is recognised. In Sri Lanka, teachers’ work has long been tied to social recognition, both utilised and exploited, Teachers receive low salaries while handling multiple roles: teaching, class management, sectional duties, and disciplinary responsibilities.
At present, a total teaching load is around 35 periods a week, with 28 periods spent in classroom teaching. The reform adds continuous assessments, portfolio work, projects, curriculum preparation, peer coordination, and e-knowledge, to the teacher’s responsibilities. These are undeclared forms of labour, meaning that the government assigns no economic value to them; yet teachers perform these tasks as part of a long-standing culture. When this culture is unpacked, the gendered nature of this undeclared labour becomes clear. It is gendered because the majority of schoolteachers are women, and their unpaid roles remain unrecognised. It is worth citing some empirical narratives to illustrate this point:
“When there was an extra-school event, like walks, prize-giving, or new openings, I stayed after school to design some dancing and practice with the students. I would never get paid for that extra time,” a female dance teacher in the Western Province shared.
I cite this single empirical account, and I am certain that many teachers have similar stories to share.
Where the curriculum is concerned, schoolteachers struggle to complete each lesson as planned due to time constraints and poor infrastructure. As explained by a teacher in the Central Province:
“It is difficult to have a reliable internet connection. Therefore, I use the hotspot on my phone so the children can access the learning material.”
Using their own phones and data for classroom activities is not part of a teacher’s official duties, but a culture has developed around the teaching role that makes such decisions necessary. Such activities related to labour risks further exploitation under the reform if the state remains silent in providing the necessary infrastructure.
Considering that women form the majority of the teaching profession, none of the reforms so far have taken women’s health issues seriously. These issues could be exacerbated by the extra stress arising from multiple job roles. Many female teachers particularly those with young children, those in peri- or post-menopause stages of their life, or those with conditions like endometriosis may experience aggravated health problems due to work-related stress intensified by the reform. This raises a critical question: what role does the state play in addressing these issues?
In Conclusion
The following suggestions are put forward:
First and foremost, the government should clearly declare the fundamental plan of the reform, highlighting why, what, when, and how it will be implemented. This plan should be grounded in the realities of the classroom, focusing on being child-centred and teacher-focused.
Technological welfare interventions are necessary, alongside a legal framework to ensure the safety and security of accessing the smart, information-centred world. Furthermore, teachers’ labour should be formally recognised and assigned economic value. Currently, under neoliberal logic, teachers are often left to navigate these challenges on their own, as if the choice is between survival or collapse.
Aruni Samarakoon teaches at the Department of Public Policy, University of Ruhuna
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
By Aruni Samarakoon
Features
Smartphones and lyrics stands…
Diliup Gabadamudalige is, indeed, a maestro where music is concerned, and this is what he had to say, referring to our Seen ‘N’ Heard in The Island of 6th January, 2026, and I totally agree with his comments.
Diliup: “AI avatars will take over these concerts. It will take some time, but it surely will happen in the near future. Artistes can stay at home and hire their avatar for concerts, movies, etc. Lyrics and dance moves, even gymnastics can be pre-trained”.
Yes, and that would certainly be unsettling as those without talent will make use of AI to deceive the public.
Right now at most events you get the stage crowded with lyrics stands and, to make matters even worse, some of the artistes depend on the smartphone to put over a song – checking out the lyrics, on the smartphone, every few seconds!
In the good ole days, artistes relied on their talent, stage presence, and memorisation skills to dominate the stage.
They would rehearse till they knew the lyrics by heart and focus on connecting with the audience.

Smartphones and lyrics stands: A common sight these days
The ability of the artiste to keep the audience entertained, from start to finish, makes a live performance unforgettable That’s the magic of a great show!
When an artiste’s energy is contagious, and they’re clearly having a blast, the audience feeds off it and gets taken on an exciting ride. It’s like the whole crowd is vibing on the same frequency.
Singing with feeling, on stage, creates this electric connection with the audience, but it can’t be done with a smartphone in one hand and lyrics stands lined up on the stage.
AI’s gonna shake things up in the music scene, for sure – might replace some roles, like session musicians or sound designers – but human talent will still shine!
AI can assist, but it’s tough to replicate human emotion, experience, and soul in music.
In the modern world, I guess artistes will need to blend old-school vibes with new tech but certainly not with smartphones and lyrics stands!
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