Connect with us

Features

Middle East on Edge, India’s Vote Marathon, and Lanka’s Long Election Eve

Published

on

An Israeli female trooper inspects an Iranian ballistic missile which the IDF claims was retrieved from the Dead Sea after Iran launched its attack. (Times of Israel Photo)

by Rajan Philips

As Sri Lankans took time off to mark the national New Year last week, Iran launched a spectacle of drone and missile attacks against Israel. This was the first direct attack by Iran on Israel after the Islamic Revolution in 1979. Until now Iran has been using proxies to harass Israel – the Shiite Hezbollah in Lebanon, and Hamas and other groups among the Palestinians. Iran’s attack was more a spectacle than a serious punch and was intended as a retaliatory response to Israel’s April 1 airstrike on Iran’s consulate building in Damascus, Syria, that killed seven of Iran’s elite Quds Force officers. But by striking directly at Isarel’s territory Iran has “rewritten the rules” of engagement between the two countries, according to veteran US Middle East diplomat Dennis Ross.

The fear in Washington is that the situation will escalate and get out of control if Israel decides to respond and have the last word in mutual deterrence. The G-7 countries are exerting diplomatic pressure on Israel to avoid a military response, and the US government has indicated that it would have no involvement in such a response. That is after helping Israel to successfully intercept and neutralize almost all of the 300 drones and missiles that Iran rained on Israel last Saturday night.

Even a highly escalated regional conflict, let alone a full blown war between Iran and Israel, would create existential problem for the Biden presidency in the US. President Biden is still the odds on favourite to win the November election against the rampant Trump, but an escalated Middle East conflict would be a repetition of the 1979 history of the Iranian hostage crisis that rocked the Carter presidency and led to the 1980 defeat of Democratic President Jimmy Carter after a single term in office.

Before Iran’s drone spectacle Mr. Netanyahu had been put flat on his backfoot following another April Fools Day Israeli drone killing – of seven aid workers belonging to the high profile World Central Kitchen charity. The founder and operator of this charity is a Spanish American chef and prominent Washington restauranter, José Andrés, who personally knows the President among other Washington notables. Added to this was the Israeli strike in Damascus which created fears in Washington of Iran’s retaliation and the regional escalation of the Gaza conflict. Washington reportedly assured Tehran that it had no prior knowledge of the Israeli airstrike.

The upshot of Iran’s retaliation is the shift in attention from the crisis and tragedy in Gaza and a godsend political respite for Prime Minister Netanyahu. In Israeli political circles, Mr. Netanyahu is known for dodging and avoiding making tough decisions in difficult situations contrary to his rhetorical bravados. That quality might be of some deterrent value in the current situation marked by the extremist insistence on revenge and the general support for an Israeli response among Israeli people. Netanyahu is too deep in domestic trouble to do anything to hurt Bilden’s election chances in the US, but he certainly will not be looking to do anything to help Biden either. In fact, he would prefer the return of Trump to the White House to a second Biden term.

Indian Marathon

Across the Arabian sea in India, on Friday, hundreds of millions pf people started their voting marathon to elect their 18th Lok Sabha after independence. The poll ends on June 1, and results will be announced from June 3. There will be state assembly elections in four states (Arunachal Pradesh, Sikkim, Andra Pradesh and Odisha) concurrently with the national election. Three other states (Maharashtra and Jharkhand) will have their assembly elections later in 2024. Jammu and Kashmir will have Lok Sabha elections but no state elections. The state has been under President’s rule since 2019 with no state election after 2014. The status quo might continue indefinitely in a Modi third term.

Prime Minister Modi and the BJP are widely expected to win and the observer bet is on the size of their victory. Will they surpass their tally of 303 seats in 2019, or even go further and secure a two-thirds majority, winning more than 370 seats? Even though he has led the BJP to consecutive majorities in 2014 and 2019 and is poised to deliver a ‘threepeat’ this year, Modi is conscious of his inability to transform the BJP into a truly national party like the old Congress Party of Jawaharlal Nehru and Indira Gandhi. The two are his historical nemeses and it bothers him deeply that his charisma has no reach beyond the contours of the Hindutva bigots. Nehru vehemently despised bigotry, while Modi passionately celebrates it. Yet much, not all, of India has taken to Modi and abandoned the heirs of Nehru and the old Congress banyan.

“The Congress is India, and India is the Congress,” was Nehru’s triumphant slogan at the time of independence and for more than a decade thereafter. Now his great grandson Rahul Gandhi has cobbled together a patchwork alliance called INDIA that is no more than an abbreviation for a political mouthful: The Indian National Developmental Inclusive Alliance. Despite the early hopes it kindled, the alliance has not been able to become an electoral counter machine to the BJP juggernaut. In the 2019 elections, the parties in the INDIA alliance won 91 out of 543 seats, less than a third of the BJP tally. How far would they go now?

The alliance is primarily a conglomerate of regional parties. The national posture is provided by the two Communist Parties, which are now less than state parties, and the Congress which is less than a shadow of its imposing past. In 2019, the Congress and the BJP faced off each other in 202 Lok Sabha seats, and the Congress won only 16 of them. This time, the Congress is seen to be independently strong in only four states, three of them in in the south – Karnataka, Kerala and Telangana, and Punjab in the north. This leaves much of the electoral heavy lifting to regional parties and their leaders in eight states including Tamil Nadu, West Bengal, Delhi and Punjab, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, Maharashtra and Andhra Pradesh. Together the 12 states account for 369 seats in the Lok Sabha. If the opposition parties can make inroads in these states, they can at least stop the BJP race to a two-thirds majority even if they are not able to stop it from winning the race.

Further, the BJP lags in six of the 12 states (Telangana, West Bengal, Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh, Bihar and Kerala) plus Odisha, which carry a combined total of 204 seats. The BJP has not won more than 50 seats in all of the six states added together in the last two elections – winning 29 seats in 2014 and 47 seats in 2019. But Modi’s heart is in showing some victory in Tamil Nadu, where the BJP has never been able to make a dent in the periodical alliances of the two Dravidian parties that have alternated as government and opposition for nearly sixty years. Even winning a single seat in Tamil Nadu would be an achievement for Modi, and that is what pushed Modi to raise the spectre of Katchatheevu during the election campaign. The Sunday Island (March 31) editorial called Modi’s demagogic hype as bottom trawling for Tamil Nadu votes.

The Long Eve

For all its other problems, the election year politics in Sri Lanka is not even a storm in a teacup. Quite a world apart from the aragalaya protests two years ago. There is still a long way to go before the presidential election in September-October. Perhaps too long to stop political silliness from taking over serious politics. There are now debates over who will debate whom, where and when. There are musings about a common Tamil candidate, the self-promotion of a single Tamil candidate, and even the prospect of a Sri Lankan Hindu candidate. Not even Modi is claiming that title.

It now seems certain that there would be no parliamentary election before the presidential election. It is even more certain that Ranil Wickremesinghe would be a candidate at the election. Twenty years after he last was a presidential candidate. This time as the incumbent interim President. The killing curiosity is about Sajith Premadasa. For all his posturing about debates – with or without his team – there are still speculations whether Mr. Premadasa would be a candidate himself; or if he would be co-opted inside the Wickremesinghe ticket as a future Prime Minister, but with more say than the name-board status that his father resented.

Clearly off the starting block, and he has been for a while, is Anura Kumara Dissanayake. Being in the race even before it has not begun has its own problems. One is the extended period of scrutiny that Mr. Dissanayake and his NPP are now facing. The NPP that is the abbreviation for National People Power is now being expanded as No Plan Party. A rigorous scrutiny is necessary for the country to avoid another incompetent administration so soon after getting rid of the last one. It is also a blessing in disguise for the NPP to demonstrate its competence not only to the electorate, but also internally sincerely to itself.

The election issues are also shaping up along with alliance formations among political forces. The economic question remains topmost, but political contenders would and should be forced to come up with specific answers at the more granular levels. What happens after the current IMF timeline comes to an end in June? What is everyone’s position on debt restructuring? What are the implications of the slow re-valuation of the rupee – should it be encouraged to bring prices down; could the rupee be allowed to rise to the point of harming exports; what is special about the threshold exchange rate of SLR 280 to a dollar that the President seems to have indicated?

Then there are the more traditional questions involving constitutional and law and order matters with enormous implications for the participation of the non-Sinhala Buddhist sections of the population. Ranil Wickremesinghe has a history of answers to these questions on paper, but no record of achievement. Anura Kumara Dissanayake, on the other hand, has had no opportunity to create any record of action, but he cannot avoid the responsibility to provide answers to some longstanding national questions.

In a recent speech in Jaffna, Mr. Dissanayake is reported to have said that he was not going to bargain for Tamil votes by promising ’13 plus’ or a ‘federal solution.’ His apparent alternative is the assurance of an ‘inclusive Sri Lankan identity.’ That is neither here nor there. There is already some identity on everyone’s national identity card and passport. Is he suggesting anything more? No one is asking Mr. Dissanayake to bargain or bottom- trawl for Tamil votes or any votes. There is quite a space in between for him to write some specific answers. And there is still time to do it.



Continue Reading
Advertisement
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Features

Own the car or let the App drive?

Published

on

The real cost of daily travel in urban Sri Lanka

For many middle-class Sri Lankans, the private car still carries connotations of stability, dignity, and upward mobility. Yet in today’s Sri Lanka, with petrol at Rs. 434 per litre, following the Ceylon Petroleum Corporation’s revision, effective 30 May, 2026, loan-to-value ratios tightened to 40% requiring a 60% down payment, and ride-hailing apps now joined by app-based three-wheelers, the question of whether to own a car has become sharper than ever. The answer is not emotional but economic: for ordinary day-to-day travel, is it actually cheaper and wiser to own a car, or to let the app do the work?

Take a generic urban Sri Lankan commuter making a 40 km daily round trip to office and back, with routine errands built in. That is about 880 km a month across 22 working days. At that level of usage, the arithmetic becomes surprisingly clear: for a large group of moderate urban users, app-based mobility, whether a car or a three-wheeler, is financially smarter than owning a car, unless the non-financial benefits of ownership matter deeply enough to justify the premium.

The Sri Lankan distortion:

cars cost too much

In most developed economies, cars are consumer durables. In Sri Lanka, they behave more like luxury financial assets. A moderate vehicle, such as a Toyota Raize or Honda Civic, often costs several times what a comparable car would in a developed market, once taxes, import restrictions, and scarcity are priced in.

Assume a moderate privately used car priced at 10 million. Under the Central Bank’s current 40% LTV directive, the buyer may borrow only 40% against the vehicle’s value, requiring a 60% down payment of 6 million and a five-year lease on the remaining 4 million. At a typical Sri Lankan leasing rate of 14% per annum, the monthly lease instalment comes to approximately 93,000. A moderate petrol vehicle averages around 12 km per litre in urban traffic. At Rs. 434 per litre, fuel cost alone is  36 per km, or 31,800 per month for 880 km. Add insurance of 12,000 and a conservative 4,000 for routine running costs, and total cash outgoings reach approximately 140,800 per month.

But cash outgoings alone understate the true cost. The 6 million down payment, if invested elsewhere at 9% per annum, would generate approximately 45,000 per month in foregone return. Adding this opportunity cost, the full economic cost of the moderate car rises to 185,900 per month, or 211 per km.

The app alternatives: car or three-wheeler

Urban Sri Lankan commuters today have many distinct app-based mobility options, each serving different journey types and comfort preferences.

Uber and PickMe (car hire): A premium car hire through Uber or PickMe costs approximately 150 per km. For 880 km of monthly travel, that comes to 132,000 per month. Compared with the moderate owned car at 185,900, the app saves 53,900 per month, or 61 per km. On purely financial terms, the app wins decisively.

App-based three-wheelers: App-based three-wheelers currently charge approximately 110 per km. For 880 km, that is 96,800 per month, saving 89,100 per month and 101 per km compared with the moderate owned car. The tuk-tuk app is the most economical of the three mobility options for short urban trips, though clearly unsuitable for highway travel, poor weather, carrying passengers in formal settings, however, it represents a compelling financial case.

Non-financial advantages of ownership

Transport decisions are never purely accounting exercises. A private car offers privacy, immediate availability, flexibility, and family utility in ways that no app can fully replicate. With your own car, you can leave when you want, stop when you want, change route mid-journey, carry files or groceries without thought, respond to emergencies, and avoid the uncertainty of waiting for a driver to accept your ride. It also becomes a family coordination tool: school drop-offs, medical visits, elderly passengers, unplanned errands, and weekend travel all become easier. In psychological terms, ownership buys autonomy. No app-based alternative, whether car or three-wheeler, provides that.

The hidden burden of car ownership and app limitations

Yet the same car creates stress. Urban Sri Lankan driving is rarely relaxing. Congestion is exhausting, lane discipline is weak, and parking is a recurring headache. Every daily driver absorbs cognitive fatigue that accumulates invisibly over months.

Uber and PickMe remove the burden of driving, fuelling, and servicing. But they introduce their own friction: waiting times, driver cancellations, surge pricing during peak hours or rain, and inconsistent vehicle quality. App three-wheelers add further constraints, limited luggage capacity, exposure to weather, and social context limitations. The app does not eliminate inconvenience; it transforms driving stress into coordination stress.

There is also the administrative burden of ownership that many buyers underestimate. A car is not just a vehicle; it is an asset management project. Lease payments must be tracked, insurance renewed, service appointments remembered, tyres monitored, and documents maintained. Even a low-maintenance new car carries the persistent fear that one breakdown or accident can create a large unexpected outflow. The app user, by contrast, simply pays for completed trips, no garage anxiety, no debt-linked asset stress, no renewal calendar.

Sensitivity analysis: what if the car is a lower-grade Wagon R?

The picture changes if the household opts for a lower-grade entry-level vehicle. Assume a Suzuki Wagon R or equivalent at 6 million, again with a 60% down payment of 3.6 million and a five-year lease on 2.4 million. At 14% per annum, the monthly lease instalment is approximately 55,800.

The smaller car delivers better fuel economy, around 15 km per litre. At 434 per litre, fuel cost becomes 29 per km, or 25,500 per month for 880 km. Add insurance of 7,000 and running costs of 3,000. Including opportunity cost at 9% on the 3.6 million down payment (27,000 per month), the total economic cost is 118,300 per month, 134 per km.

Now the comparison becomes more nuanced. A lower-grade Uber or PickMe alternative costs around 125 per km, or 110,000 per month for 880 km. The gap narrows dramatically: owning the Wagon R costs only 8,300 more per month, just 9 per km, compared with the app car option. The app three-wheeler at 110 per km (96,800 per month) is still materially cheaper, saving 21,500 per month against the lower-grade owned car. (See Table 1)

So, what should an urban Sri Lankan do?

If you travel alone on routine urban routes, the app three-wheeler at 110/km is the most economical option by a wide margin, saving up to 89,100 per month against a moderate owned car. Its limitation is not financial but practical: unsuitable for families, formal occasions, highway travel, and bad weather, but convenient-no stress.

For families, formal occasions, highway travel, and bad weather and convenient-no stress, Uber or PickMe Moderate car at 150/km delivers private-car comfort without the asset burden, saving 53,900 per month against the moderate owned car. The saving is if you get an economy APP car.

If you need family flexibility, late-night mobility, or privacy, ownership remains rational, but preferably through a lower-grade car around 6 million. At 134/km, the Wagon R-type car is only 9/km more than the app car alternative and 24/km more than a tuk-tuk, a gap that autonomy, family convenience, and immediate availability can legitimately justify.

Therefore, in Sri Lanka’s distorted vehicle market, with fuel at LKR434/lt, a 60% mandatory down payment, the Wagon R-type leased car remains relatively a better choice for a family with moderate earnings.

The private car still offers freedom. But in 2026 Sri Lanka, that freedom comes at very different prices. The real question is how much each household can afford to pay for autonomy, prestige, and convenience, and whether the extra 61/km for a moderate leased car, against a perfectly capable app car, or 101/km against a tuk-tuk app, represents a rational expenditure of household income. For most salaried urban commuters, the honest answer is: probably not.

(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe.

Views expressed in this article are personal.)

Continue Reading

Features

Justice and democracy in Sri Lanka’s new political era

Published

on

The legal processes are steadily closing in on some of the most controversial cases that have remained as open questions without closure for many years. These include the Easter Sunday bombings of 2019, the Treasury bond scam that erupted in 2015, and a range of corruption allegations that became synonymous with successive governments over the past two or more decades. What once appeared to be stalled investigations are now showing signs of movement through the courts and investigative agencies. Recent developments suggest that these long running cases are entering a decisive phase. In the Easter Sunday attacks investigation, new arrests and investigations have brought renewed attention to allegations that extend beyond the immediate perpetrators and into questions of intelligence failures and possible political complicity. The arrest and detention of former intelligence chief Suresh Sallay under the Prevention of Terrorism Act has intensified public interest in uncovering the full truth behind the attacks.

The Treasury bond scam has also re-entered the spotlight. The Supreme Court has recently overturned legal obstacles that had prevented prosecutions from proceeding and directed that the case moves forward expeditiously. This has reopened one of the most sophisticated financial scandals in the country’s recent history and brought several prominent political and financial figures back under legal scrutiny. As those implicated in these unresolved cases are leading figures from previous governments, which have spanned both sides of the political divide since Independence, it can well be imagined that there is tremendous opposition to the gradually enveloping legal processes that is both seen and unseen.

These cases that are now being investigated cut across political camps and involve individuals who occupied some of the highest offices in the country. The result is that resistance to accountability is likely to emerge from many quarters. Still to be opened are the thousands of cases of persons gone missing during the war. Presidential Commissions have been appointed with regard to them, but there has been no serious investigations of the type now taking place.

In these circumstances, it can be surmised that the government led by those who are new to power would wish to retain a maximum of power to face the pushback that is bound to emerge from those in the opposition who have wielded power for generations. The government may calculate that this is not the time to disperse authority or reduce the instruments of state power available to it. Instead, it may believe that a period of centralised control is necessary if investigations, prosecutions and reforms are to proceed without interference.

Provincial Elections

It appears that the opposition’s efforts to mobilise the people and public opinion against the government have not been successful so far. One such instance was the attempt to generate opposition to price increases. Although people have undoubtedly been affected by rising prices and economic difficulties, these efforts failed to gather significant momentum. Another attempt came when President Dissanayake predicted that opposition politicians would face imprisonment in the month of May as legal cases progressed, though this has not happened. Critics claimed that such remarks suggested an intention to influence judicial outcomes. Yet this criticism also failed to gain traction among the public. The likely reason is that public memory remains fresh. Many people continue to associate previous governments with economic mismanagement, corruption scandals, abuse of power and the eventual economic collapse. In comparison, the present government continues to enjoy a reservoir of public goodwill and credibility. As long as legal action appears to be based on evidence and proper process, the public seems prepared to give the government the benefit of the doubt.

The government’s deliberate and cautious approach to political reform that would reduce its centralised power needs to be seen in this context. The monthly approval by Parliament of the emergency regulations is justified by the government as due to the continuing need to respond to the devastation caused by Cyclone Ditwah. However, when viewed together with the reluctance to hold provincial council elections on the grounds of electoral reform, the failure to repeal the Prevention of Terrorism Act and the postponement of constitutional reform, they all appear to reflect a preference for retaining maximum control at a politically sensitive moment. There is a logic to this approach. Governments facing major legal and political confrontations often seek stability and control. So does every despot. However, there is also a downside.

When political competition is denied to legitimate outlets, it often finds expression in confrontation, obstruction and polarisation. The advantage of prioritising the conduct of provincial council elections at this time is that it could reduce the political pressures that are building up. The main opposition parties are united in calling for these elections to be held. Conducting them would provide an opportunity for opposition political parties to obtain a measure of democratic representation and political authority at the provincial level. This would be especially true in the northern and eastern provinces, in which the ethnic and religious minorities predominate. It cannot be forgotten that the provincial council system was developed as a constructive response to the ethnic conflict. Elections at the provincial level would create opportunities for a new generation of political leaders to emerge through democratic competition rather than patronage. Many of those now facing legal scrutiny belong to an older generation to whose needs the younger may be less deferential.

Two Pillars

Another reform that could command bipartisan support is the repeal of the Prevention of Terrorism Act. The PTA has once again become controversial because it is being used in situations that extend beyond its original purpose. The detention of former intelligence chief Suresh Sallay under the Act, the continued incarceration of some Tamil detainees from the war period, and the arrest of individuals accused of speech related offences have all revived concerns regarding prolonged detention without trial and excessive executive power. The reason the PTA has been difficult to repeal is that it is closely associated with concerns regarding national security and territorial integrity. Introduced in 1979 as a temporary measure to confront the emerging separatist conflict, it survived through decades of war and has remained on the statute books long after the conflict ended.

At the same time, history shows that extraordinary powers are likely to be misused. Laws that permit detention without trial or broad executive discretion are rarely confined to their original purpose. Governments of different political parties have used such powers against opponents and critics. The temptation to do so is inherent in the possession of unchecked authority. The way forward could therefore be a combination of accountability and reform. The government should continue to support independent investigations and prosecutions in major corruption and security related cases. Demonstrating political will in this regard would strengthen public confidence in the rule of law and reinforce the principle that no individual is above the law. The PTA could be replaced with legislation that amends the Criminal Procedure Code and Penal Code in a manner that addresses legitimate security concerns while complying with democratic norms and human rights standards.

There are also international dimensions to consider. The European Union has repeatedly linked governance and human rights reforms, including reform of the PTA, to Sri Lanka’s continuing access to the GSP Plus trade concession. Progress on these issues would strengthen Sri Lanka’s international standing at a time when economic recovery remains a national priority. The government has a rare opportunity. It possesses a strong electoral mandate, public goodwill and a reputation for integrity that previous governments lacked. It can combine the pursuit of justice in long delayed cases with meaningful democratic reforms that reduce political resistance and broaden public support. At this time, accountability and power sharing are the two pillars which Sri Lankans need to be committed to build a just and democratic society for a better future without delay. Failure now would make for a long period of waiting for the next time.

by Jehan Perera

Continue Reading

Features

Pitfalls and exclusions in academic recruitment

Published

on

Academic recruitment

A public university relies on its teachers in fulfilling its responsibilities to the wider community. While teaching remains the chief responsibility of the academic staff, they also conduct research and play a central role in keeping the university a vibrant space where they and students can freely participate in conversations that concern not just routine classroom education but also society at large. The broader intellectual culture and intellectual integrity of a university thus depend on how its academics perform their functions. Therefore, universities should take the task of recruiting their academics seriously. It is important to ensure that this task is done responsibly, transparently and credibly through a fair, thorough and multi-phased evaluation process.

As both an applicant and a member of selection panels for recruitment, I hold that the recruitment procedures, currently in place in our university system, require radical reforms. Echoing some of the concerns raised by Kaushalya Perera in her Kuppi article on recruitment in March 2026, I focus on the limitations I have observed and experienced, specifically in the recruitment of Lecturer (Probationary) and Senior Lecturer positions. The article also aims to explore how these shortcomings could be addressed.

The Advertisement

Recruitment for Lecturer (Probationary) and Senior Lecturer positions is done through an open-advertisement which also involves an interview with shortlisted candidates. Advertisements are finalised in line with a template issued by the Registrar’s Office. Generally, an initial draft, prepared by the Registrar’s Office, is sent to the relevant academic departments for revisions. The revisions have to be made within the template provided, which allows space for the mention of only specialisation requirements.

It should be noted that not all revisions to the advertisement, suggested by the Department Head, are accepted in the next round. Deans, Vice Chancellors and Registrars, who have very little understanding of the disciplines associated with the position, sometimes reject the changes proposed by the Department. Technocratic in their thinking, they don’t recognise that an academic programme can be taught by persons with specialisation in another overlapping discipline. For instance, a position in English, at a university in Sri Lanka, is very well suited to not just those who have postgraduate qualifications in literary studies but also those who are from the disciplines of Applied Linguistics, Cultural Studies or Translation Studies, as these areas are taught as sub-fields of English studies at most universities in the country. These disciplinary overlaps, even when pointed out by Heads, are often overlooked by our administrators.

In place of this process, dominated by academic administrators and registrars, the advertisement should ideally emerge, from the relevant department, in the form of a comprehensive job description. It should mention the nature of the position advertised, the kind of teaching (and research) expected, how the position relates to other positions in the department, in terms of specialisation and workload, and the ways in which the recruited candidate would contribute to overall institutional development.

There can be no one-size-fits-all model when it comes to recruitment. Individual departments vary in size, strength and specialisation requirements. Departments with sizable academic staff may want to emphasise specialisation during recruitment, whereas smaller departments may prefer generalists who can handle a wide-array of courses. Specifying the rationale for the requirements included in the job description may help potential applicants get an understanding of the position advertised and the selection panel to conduct the evaluation process in a fair manner.

Review of Applications

Once applications are received, we sometimes find promising candidates but with qualifications that don’t carry in their title the name of the discipline or the department in which the position is advertised. Sometimes the disciplines or fields of specialisation that appear in the advertisement and the ones that appear in the qualifications are not identical in nomenclature, even though the research undertaken by the applicant during their graduate studies is strongly relevant to the position advertised. Even when such applications are accompanied by strong and relevant publications, our system does not view them positively. Instead, nomenclatural differences are used to reject promising candidates. Such differences are also used as a pretext when universities want to exclude a candidate for their cultural background, political beliefs or other reasons. Even if academic departments recognise such applications, at the next stage, the administrators of the university try to veto them. We lose inter-disciplinary scholars of high academic standing because of the high-handedness of university administrators.

Selection Panels

Selection panels for academic positions typically comprise the Vice Chancellor, the Dean of the Faculty, the Head of the Department, two academics nominated by the Senate and two members of the University Council. In the case of programmes/disciplines jointly housed under a single department, if the Head comes from a discipline other than the one in which the position is advertised, they may not be able to contribute in an informed manner to the recruitment process. However, some Heads refuse to appoint nominees from the relevant discipline in their place as they view sitting on selection panels as their exclusive privilege.

Sometimes university Senates do not take the appointment of Senate nominees seriously. These appointments are decided in a hurry without serious deliberations at senate meetings packed with numerous agenda items. Sometimes even if the relevant department has suitable academics to serve as Senate nominees, the Senate chooses academics from other departments or disciplines who do not have a nuanced understanding of the requirements of the position advertised and its disciplinary parameters. Sometimes specialists in the relevant discipline may not be available at a university. On such occasions, Senates tend to fill up the positions with academics from other disciplines, instead of inviting external nominees from other universities. At a state university in Sri Lanka, I was interviewed thrice for academic positions by selection panels that comprised not even one specialist from the relevant discipline.

The Marking Scheme

The marking schemes used in recruitment have their own drawbacks. Publications are sometimes evaluated for their quantity rather than quality. The opinion of the subject specialist is not sought or taken seriously when a candidate’s research is evaluated. This is why our universities are saddled with academics who engage in plagiarism or predatory publishing. The evaluation process should be tightened in such a way to bar the entry of those who lack academic integrity.

It is worrying to see that marking schemes and schemes of recruitment penalise applicants who have excelled in their graduate studies and are well-reputed for their recent research and publications just because they did not earn a first-class or second-class upper-division pass at the undergraduate level. Our narrow focus on a candidate’s first degree prevents us from giving due recognition to how that person has gained intellectual depth over the years. Some marking rubrics, which allocate points for eye-contact and posture during the interview, dilute the seriousness associated with the academic position, de-prioritise scholarship and turn the interview process into a stage performance.

Cultural Credibility

In recruitment, many universities look for cultural credibility (a term that I borrow from the work of Sulaxana Hippisley) as an unwritten requirement. Some departments are reluctant to hire applicants who are not their alumni. Some selection panels discriminate against candidates from certain ethnic or religious backgrounds. In some departments, women are rejected because they are likely to go on maternity leave or have more domestic responsibilities than men. Gender and sexual minorities have to mute and censor their identities at interviews because they are likely to face rejection if they openly declare their orientation. We have no policies and procedures in place to ensure recruitment is conducted in an inclusive way that sees diversity as a strength.

The Way-forward

When recruitment fails, the entire intellectual culture of that university takes a hit, and several generations of students are affected. Some of the current problems, related to quality in our higher education system, stem from bad recruitment policies and practices. Instead of trying to address these issues through rigorous and inclusive recruitment practices, we try to seek solutions via band-aids like quality assurance and workshops on curriculum writing and pedagogy for university academics.

In developing alternative recruitment policies and practices, we have to demand that the needs and expectations of individual departments are heard. Our selection panels should include more subject specialists than administrators and council nominees. Most of the evaluation should be completed before the interviews, and interviews should be treated as opportunities to get to know candidates in person and pose clarifying questions rather than as occasions for full-scale evaluation. We have to be open and receptive to new, inter-disciplinary scholarship and cultural, ethnic and gender diversity. If we are unwilling to introspect and bring about these reforms and revise our marking schemes, we will continue to recruit the wrong candidates and thereby fail our students and the wider community.

Mahendran Thiruvarangan is a Senior Lecturer attached to the Department of Linguistics & English 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.)

by Mahendran Thiruvarangan

Continue Reading

Trending