Features
New wine in old bottles: Anthropologising Sinhala middle-class
By Uditha Devapriya
Although it has always been something of a passing interest, anthropology has figured in my travels, studies, and writings over the last five years. My focus over these years has narrowed down to five areas: the different meanings that categories like race and ethnicity have acquired from the early historical period to the contemporary moment; the social, cultural, and political transformations of the colonial era, specifically the British Period and more specifically the early and middle British Periods; the folk revival of the mid-20th century, as exemplified by the work of Sunil Santha; the modern artistic and cultural movement, revolving around if not centring on the 43 Group; and the transformation or one could say transfiguration of social values that accompanied and continues to accompany the entry of the Sinhala petty bourgeoisie to elite institutions.
Of these I would say that while the first four topics have engaged scholarly interest for years, if not decades, the fifth has not quite attracted the same interest. This may be because the topic is far more recent than the others. The Sinhala middle-class’s entry to elite institutions, specifically schools and the public sector or civil service, has been a fairly recent phenomenon: it can be dated, if at all, to the post-1956 period, when the language and education reforms undertaken by both SLFP and UNP governments – the former more than the latter – enabled a petty bourgeoisie to rise, if not to the top, then to the middle ranks of organisations that had been the preserve of a colonial elite and Anglicised middle-class for almost one and a half centuries.
My interest in this area grew because of two reasons. First, as a freelancer covering various school and commercial events, I inadvertently came face to face with people, particularly students and middle level executives and employees, whose values one simply could not associate with the history and character of the institutions they represented. That the most elite of schools in Colombo had sizeably non-English speaking populations did not, of course, come as a shock to me, yet it more or less fascinated me because of how such institutions continue to be associated with elite milieus and social classes. The reality is obviously much more different and complex, a fact I had to grapple with when it came to commercial firms and the country’s civil service as well.
Second, my travels to villages and far-flung communities in the country opened me up to the immense complexity of the social relationships, values, and mores governing them, and how far removed the reality these communities live through every day is from what is usually assumed or one could say imagined about them. Steven Kemper ends the last chapter of his brilliant study of advertising in Sri Lanka by recounting the lives and details of two families from suburban Colombo.
One of these families trace their roots to Kandy, but have shifted to Colombo because one of their sons obtained admission to Royal College through a scholarship exam. Kemper, outsider though he is, grasps the significance of this achievement: the son, in effect, becomes for his parents a link to the city, and all that it represents. The upward aspiring Sinhala petty bourgeoisie has gained its place in the sun because elite institutions, in essence, have been opened for them.
Whether one can reduce such phenomena to the dynamics of a social milieu in pursuit of social advancement is of course highly debatable. My argument is that this is a two-way process: elite institutions have become more accessible for the petty bourgeoisie, and the petty bourgeoisie has become the new elite. They are, in effect, the new kingmakers: they have voted and brought to power both neoliberal and nationalist parties and presidential candidates. This places them in an interesting conundrum. Numerically they are stronger and more representative of the country than the elites that preceded them, but their willingness to adapt to and adopt elite attitudes has distanced them from the vast multitude of their countrymen. They are, in other words, conscious of their kinship with those below them on the social scale and their subservience, so to speak, to the urban middle-classes above them. In his introduction to Gamanaka Mula, Gunadasa Amarasekara critiques Martin Wickramasinghe for having focused more on the colonial bourgeoisie than the Sinhala middle-class. But Wickramasinghe does examine the latter in his Koggala Trilogy, and what is more examines their contradictory position in the colonial social order, specifically in the character of Aravinda, Malin Kabilana’s friend in Yuganthaya.
20th century Sinhala literature has not, I think, given us a more concrete, flesh-and-blood archetype of the Sinhala middle-class, with the pressures and paradoxes that continue to assail it even today, than Aravinda. In Yuganthaya Aravinda serves as a conscience for Malin Kabilana. But instead of appealing to Kabilana’s better instincts, Aravinda serves as a vessel for the colonial bourgeoisie.
At one point he implores Kabilana to abandon his radical politics and return to his father Simon’s class. In one particularly memorable and evocative episode – evocative in a Proustean sense – Aravinda smokes a cigar and dreams of living in a house in the Cinnamon Gardens. By this point we have been told of the immense hardships and difficulties his father had to wade through to educate his son and ensure a position for him. Yet Aravinda is not shown as bad or indifferent: he prescribes medicines free of charge for his villagers, to his father’s consternation.
Aravinda’s dilemma remains emblematic of the Sinhala petty bourgeoisie both of his time and ours. This has spilt over to the cultural sphere as well, sometimes profoundly. Here the contradiction is between the cultural values on which the Sinhala rural petty bourgeoisie have been raised and the avowedly secular or non-Buddhist heritage of the elite institutions that have been opened for them. Perhaps no better example illustrates this more, for me, than a recent complaint, written by an Old Boy of an elite school and published in a prominent newspaper, that his school was becoming less secular and more ‘Sinhalised” and “Buddhicised.” These are pertinent concerns, especially in light of lingering fears of Sinhalisation and Buddhicisation in the country’s north and east.
Given these concerns, one is compelled to sympathise with the writer. But one is also forced to recognise the inevitability of such transformations, at a time when a mostly Sinhala and Buddhist petty bourgeoisie has entered these institutions. There is in any case an interesting afterword to this episode. When shown the article, a younger student from this same elite school, who is by his own definition a fervent Buddhist, questioned whether his school remained the preserve of the elite or whether it was a “school for the best.” He obviously associated “the best” with his milieu, the Sinhala and Buddhist middle-classes who have obtained entry to these institutions through merit-based examinations and assessments. His next point was even more interesting: that the best invariably are bringing with them what he calls “rural cultural values”, and that these, in effect, were shifting his school from its secular origins to a much more culturalised establishment.
Sociologists and anthropologists working in Sri Lanka, who are studying the Sinhala and Buddhist petty bourgeoisie, should I think take note of these observations. These should ideally form the basis of a study, a study that to me remains as relevant for our time as it is for all time, and indeed for all societies: the transformation of elite institutions at the hands of a nascent, emergent middle-class, in effect the new elites of countries such as ours.
The writer is an international relations analyst, researcher, and columnist who can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com
Features
Putting people back into ‘development’ – a challenge for South
Should Sri Lanka consider an 18th IMF programme? Some academicians exploring Sri Lanka’s development prospects in depth are raising this issue. It is yet to emerge as a hot topic among policy and decision-making circles in this country but common sense would sooner rather than later dictate that it be taken up for discussion by the wider public and a decision arrived at.
The issue of an 18th IMF programme was raised with some urgency locally by none other than Dr. Ganeshan Wignaraja,Visiting Senior Fellow, ODI Global London, one of whose presentations, made at the Regional Centre for Strategic Studies (RCSS), Colombo, was highlighted in this column last week, May 7th. An IMF programme is far from the ideal way out for a bankrupt country such as Sri Lanka but a policy of economic pragmatism would indicate that there is no other way out for Sri Lanka. Such a programme is the proverbial ‘Bird in the hand’ for Sri Lanka and it may be compelled to avail of it to get itself out of the morass of economic failures it is bogged down in currently.
While local economic growth possibilities are far from encouraging at present, such prospects globally are far from bright as well. Some of the more thought-provoking data in the latter regard were disclosed by Dr. Wignaraja. For example, ‘The IMF’s April 2026 World Economic Outlook projects global growth slowing to 3.1 percent in 2026; with downside risks dominating: prolonged conflict, geopolitical fragmentation, renewed trade tensions, bearing down hardest on emergent and developing economies.’
However, as is known, an ‘IMF bailout’ is fraught with huge risks for the people of a developing country. ‘The Silver Bullet’ brings hardships for the people usually and they would be required by their governments to increasingly ‘tighten their belts’ and brace for perhaps indefinite material hardships and discontent. For Sri Lanka, the cost of living is unsettlingly high and 20 percent of the population is languishing below the poverty line of $ 3.65 per day.
These statistics should help put the spotlight on the people of a country, who are theoretically the subjects and beneficiaries of development, and one of the main reasons, in so far as democracies are concerned, for the existence of governments. Placing people at the centre of the development process is urgently needed in the global South and shifting the focus to other considerations would be tantamount to governments dabbling in misplaced priorities.
Technocrats are needed for the propelling of economic growth but a Southern country’s main approach to development cannot be entirely technocratic in nature. The well being of the people and how it is affected by such growth strategies need to be prime focuses in discussions on development. Accordingly, discourses on how poverty alleviation could be facilitated need urgent initiation and perpetuation. There is no getting away from people’s empowerment.
In the South over the decades, the above themes have been, more or less, allowed to lapse in discussions on development. With economic liberalization and ‘market economics’ being allowed to eclipse development, correctly understood, people’s well being could be said to have been downplayed by Southern governments.
The development issues of Southern publics could be also said to have been compounded over the years as a result of the hemisphere lacking a single and effective ‘voice’ that could consistently and forcefully take up its questions with the global powers and institutions that matter. That is, the South lacks an all-embracing, umbrella organization that could bring together and muster the collective will of the South and work towards the realization of its best interests.
This columnist has time and again brought up the need for concerned Southern sections to explore the potential within the now virtually moribund Non-Aligned Movement to reactivate itself and fill the above lacuna in the South’s organizational and mobilization capability. In its heyday NAM not only possessed this institutional capability but had ample ‘voice power’ in the form of its founding fathers, with Jawaharlal Nehru of India, for example, proving a power to reckon with in this regard. The lack of such leaders at present needs to be factored in as well as accounting for the South’s lack of power and presence in the deliberative forums of the world that have a bearing on the hemisphere’s well being.
The Executive Director of the RCSS, Ambassador (Retd) Ravinatha Aryasinha, articulated some interesting thoughts on the above and related questions at a forum a couple of months back. Speaking at the launching of the book authored by Prof. Gamini Keerewella titled, ‘Reimagining International Relations from a Global South Perspective’, at the Bandaranaike Centre for International Studies, Colombo, Amb. Aryasinha said, among other things: ‘Historically, there is a precedent that has been realized by the Non-Aligned group of countries – unfortunately, rather than being reformed and modified at the end of the Cold War, it has been tossed away.’
The inability of the nominally existent NAM to come out of its state of veritable paralysis and voice and act in the name of the South in the current international crises lends credence to the view that the organization has allowed itself to be ‘tossed away.’ The challenge before NAM is to prove that it is by no means a spent force.
As indicted, NAM needs vibrant voices that could advocate value-based advancement for the global South. Moral principles need to triumph over Realpolitik. Such transformative changes could come to pass if there is a fresh meeting of enlightened minds within the South. Pakistan by offering to mediate in the ongoing conflict between the US and Iran, for instance, proved that there are still states within the South that could look beyond narrow self-interest and work towards some collective goals. Hopefully, Pakistan’s example will be emulated.
Along with Pakistan some Gulf states have shown willingness to work towards a de-escalation of the present hostilities in West Asia. This could be a beginning for the undertaking of more ambitious, collective projects by the South that have as their goals political solutions to current international crises. These developments prove that the South is not bereft of visionary thinking that could lay the basis for a measure of world peace. That is, there are grounds to be hopeful.
NAM needs to see it as its responsibility to make good use of these hopeful signs to bring the South together once again and work towards the realization of its founding principles, such as initiating value-based international politics and laying the basis for the collective economic betterment of Southern people.
Features
Artificial Intelligence in Academia: Menace or Tool?
(The author is on X as @sasmester)
I have often been told by university colleagues how soulless and dangerous ‘artificial intelligence’ (AI) is to academia and humanity. They lament that students no longer read anything as they can now get various AI programmes to summarise what is recommended which is mostly in the English language to Sinhala or Tamil or get easier versions in English itself. They get their assignments and even dissertations fully or partially written by AI. And I am led to believe that universities do not have reliable detection software to assess plagiarism and academic fraud that have been committed using AI beyond the software freely available on the internet with their own limitations. This is due to financial restrictions in these institutions. Even these common malpractices have been done mostly with the aid of free AI programmes which are readily available, which means cheating in this sense is free and mostly safe. For teachers, this is a ‘menace’ in the same way ‘copying’ once was. But its implications are far worse.
But given the global investments made over AI, it cannot be wished away despite the enormous negative impact its use has on the environment, particularly due to its massive demand for energy. So, AI is with us to stay, and it has a considerable role to play in human civilisation even though like most innovations and inventions, this too carries its own burden of negativity. In this context, instead of demonising AI and lamenting its replacement of human agency and ingenuity, one needs to think seriously about how to deal with and engage with it reflectively and pragmatically as there is much it can offer if people are intelligent enough to make rational and sensible choices.
When I am making these observations, I am restricting myself to a handful of practices involving only writing both in university-based examination processes and in the fields of creative writing.
My initial introduction to AI was through the Research Methods class I used to teach in New Delhi. In 2022, this class was supposed to go to Dharmshala in Uttar Pradesh for fieldwork training, and we needed to write a funding proposal quickly. One of the students in the class, already familiar with ChatGPT introduced by OpenAI as a free programme in 2022, did the proposal with its help before the two-hour class was over. I edited it soon after and sent it off to the university administration for funding which we received. That stint of field work was completed in five days and was the most detailed work undertaken as a training programme up to that time in the university which had considerable output ranging from a documentary film to a detailed ethnography based on the findings.
While the technical details, the format of the proposal and its basic writing were done by AI due to the time constraints the class faced, its fine-tuning was done by me and a few students. AI could not then and even now cannot undertake that level of specificity without close human intervention. But the film, the ethnography and the actual process of research had nothing to do with AI. It was the result of human labour, thinking, planning and at times creativity and ingenuity. This was an early example of how AI could coexist in an academic environment if its technical usefulness was clearly understood and potential for excesses was also understood. But this was a time, easily accessible AI was just emerging, and we did not know much about it. But I was fortunate enough to have intelligent students in my class who gave me a crash course into this kind of AI use, which I followed up with my own reading and experimentation later on. As a result, I am keener now to see how it can be used for the betterment of academic practice rather than taking an uncritically demonising position, which I know will not lead anywhere.
But how is this possible? The lamentations of my colleagues about the abuse of AI in academic practice is not unfounded. It is a serious threat that remains mostly unaddressed not only in our country but almost everywhere else in the world too. This is mostly because the advancements of AI even in day-to-day free usage have far exceeded any thoughts for actionable codes of ethics to ensure its practice is sensible and ethical. At the same time, I cannot see why a student should not use AI to correct his spelling and grammar in assignments. I also cannot see why a student cannot seek AI’s help to secure research material from secondary sources available online which I have been doing for years. For instance, the originals of specific books and rare manuscripts might not be available in any repositories in our part of the world. In such situations, what AI might find us is all we have access to in a world where we are restricted in our mobility due to semi-racist visa regimes of failed empires and former superpowers as well as our own lack of ability to travel due to our own unenviable economic conditions. But unfortunately, the materials we need are often only available in research centers and libraries in those nations.
Similarly, when it comes to academic prose, it makes no sense now to take years to translate works from multiple languages to Sinhala and Tamil. This has always been a time-consuming, cumbersome and expensive process. Non-availability of Sinhala and English translations of core originals in languages such as English, French, German and so on has been a long-term problem for our country. But this can now be done well – at least from English to our languages – quite quickly and with a very low margin for error by using specific AI programmes which are meant to do precisely this. What this means is a quick expansion of knowledge in local languages which would have ordinarily taken years to achieve or might not have been possible at all. But still, this needs significant human intervention and time towards perfection. However, I do not think AI-based translations work as well for fiction and poetry or creative works more generally. But the ability for AI to emulate nuance and feeling in language is fast emerging. These are two clear examples of improving technical abilities in research and writing in which AI can be of help.
But looking for sources of information with help the help of AI or using it as a tool to undertake essential translations from one language to another is quite different from simply using it without ascertaining the accuracy of collected information, getting AI to do all your work without any reflection or without any hard work at all, including engaging AI to do the final product in a writing assignment — be that a term paper or a work of fiction. If one proceeds in this direction, as many unfortunately do nowadays, then, our ability to think and be creative as a species will become diminished over time and our sense of humanity itself will take a toll. This is what my colleagues worry about when they say AI is making younger generations soulless.
It is here that ethical practices on how to use AI responsibly without compromising our sense of humanity must play a central role. But these ethical practices must be formally written and taught, followed by viable programmes for detection and publication if unethical practices are followed. This needs to be the case particularly in teaching institutions as well as the broader domain of creative writing. After all, what is the fun in reading a novel or a collection of poetry written by AI?
It is time people began to think about what AI can do in their own fields without falling prey to its power and their own laziness. This brings to my mind Geoffrey Hinton’s words: “There is no chance of stopping AI’s development. But we need to ensure alignment; to ensure it is beneficial to us …” Similarly, as Yann LeCun observed, “AI is not just about replicating human intelligence; it’s about creating intelligent systems that can surpass human limitations.” In this sense, it is up to us to find our edge in creativity and common sense to find the most sensible way forward in using AI.
Features
Engelbert’s 90th birthday bash
The legendary Engelbert Humperdinck, who is known for his hit songs such as ‘A Man Without Love’, ‘Release Me’, ‘Spanish Eyes’, ‘The Last Waltz’, ‘Am I That Easy To Forget’, ‘Ten Guitars’ and ‘I Can’t Stop Loving You’, turned 90 on 02 May, 2026, and there were some lovely Hollywood-related celebrations.
Before his birthday, Engelbert’s new single ‘I’ve Got You’ was released – on 23 April – and Engelbert had this to say: “‘I’ve Got You’ is especially close to my heart. It speaks to love, loyalty, and the quiet strength we find in one another”.
The main birthday event was held at The Starlight Cabaret, in Los Angeles, California, and Sri Lankan Raju Rasiah, now based in the States, and his wife Renuka, who are personal friends of Engelbert, were invited to participate in the celebrations, along with Ingrid Melicon – also a Sri Lankan, now domiciled in America.
The invitation said “An evening of music, memories and celebration. Let’s make it a night to remember!” And it certainly turned out to be a night never ever to be forgotten!

Invitees experienced a “magical entrance” with Engelbert’s name lighting up the screen and showing him performing his hit songs.
The invitees were also presented with a unique gift – a necklace with Engelbert’s face, engraved with the words “Remember, I Love You.”
Engelbert’s son, Bradley Dorsey, sang a tribute song ‘Only You’ for his dad, while Eddy Fisher’s daughters, Tricia and Joely, also got on stage to entertaining the distinguish gathering.
Engelbert didn’t perform but got on stage for the cutting of the birthday cake.
There was also a video compilation of birthday wishes from fellow celebrities, and the lineup included Gloria Gaynor, Micky Dolenz, Wayne Newton, Pat Boone, Lulu, Judy Collins, Deana Martin, Angélica María, Rupert Everett, Matt Goss, and more.

Birthday boy Engelbert Humperdinck
At 90, Engelbert is still performing. He’s on THE CELEBRATION TOUR for his 90th year, with over 50 international dates in 2026, including Australia, Germany, the US, and Canada. He’ll be at Massey Hall in, Toronto, on 06 October, 2026. He said: “The stage is my home… Canada has always been a highlight”.
He performed 60+ concerts, worldwide, in 2025, and says karaoke keeps his songs fresh: “Most of my songs are on karaoke because people love to sing them”.
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