Features

NU’S SOCIAL MILIEU

Published

7 months ago

2025/05/18

Thilina Walpola

Beeralu lace-makers

CHAPTER II

(Excerpted from N.U. JAYAWARDENA The first five decades)

I am proud of my humble beginnings. My earliest memories are of my parents, humble people. My father was in charge of the resthouse at Hambantota and held the conferred rank of arachchi, and later he farmed a rather large but unproductive extent of paddy land.

(N.U. Jayawardena, interview with Roshan Pieris, 1987)

Religious Background

NU’s parents, born in the 19th century, were essentially people of the South who had never travelled beyond the Hambantota and Matara districts, until their old age when they moved to Colombo. They were devout Buddhists who had lived through the Buddhist Revival Movement in Sri Lanka, which occurred from the middle of the 19th century onward. The South also had a regional consciousness as being the “Gods’ own country” (deviyange rata), since Kataragama, the pilgrimage site of Buddhists and Hindus, was in the region.

There was also a historic memory of former greatness in the South of Sri Lanka. The people of the Matara and Hambantota districts were steeped in the early history of the Ruhuna region, when Tissamaharama was a powerful kingdom associated especially with King Dutugemunu (c.100 BC), his father King Kavantissa and mother Vihara Maha Devi. The region abounds in important historic and religious sites, in places such as Mulkirigala, Tissamaharama, Kirinde, Sithulpawwa and Kataragama. In Devundara (Dondra) was the ancient Vishnu devale, revered by both Hindus and Buddhists – with its rituals and annual perahera (procession).

Buddhist monk with acolytes

An important challenge to the colonial establishment had come from the Buddhists, who opposed Christianity as being the religion of the foreign rulers and challenged Christian missionaries, who dominated education. The Buddhist Revival Movement of the 19^th and early 20th centuries was concerned with religious and national identity, also promoting modern education and temperance in the context of Buddhism. Support for it came from the new class of Sinhala Buddhist merchants who had earlier made fortunes in trade, the liquor business, plantations and graphite.

Many Buddhists from rural areas and small towns were also galvanized into supporting Buddhist grievances and demands. Some Buddhist revivalists – especially Anagarika Dharmapala and Colonel Henry Olcott – travelled by cart from village to village all over the South, promoting a resurgence of Buddhism and collecting funds for Buddhist schools.

Although the various communities had lived harmoniously, there were some occasional rumblings of religious discord. The Sinhala Buddhists thought of themselves as ‘sons of the soil.’ There were clashes in Colombo in 1883, when there was conflict between Buddhists and Catholics over Easter celebrations. In 1915, a more serious clash broke out between Buddhists and Muslims, beginning in Gampola and quickly spreading to other parts of the island. These and other flare-ups were a reflection of both the religious and economic discord of the period.

School drill

The young NU would have been keenly aware of the existence in the Hambantota area of both Buddhists and Muslims. Leonard Woolf had reported that “the races and religions have lived amicably side by side,” but that there were also occasional outbursts. Woolf records a riot occurring in Hambantota town in May 1911, when, allegedly, the drumming from a Buddhist procession outside the mosque was objected to by Muslims, resulting in a fracas.

Woolf (1962, pp.241-42) relates how he settled the matter: “I fined one side for disturbing a religious procession and the other for tom-tom beating without a licence, the Mohammedans Rs. 35 and the Buddhists Rs. 60.” Adding that the penalties were light, he said that it was done “as a matter of expedience” in order to allow the “religious ill-feeling to die out at once” (ibid). According to Woolf, “even in the quietest place, peace was precarious” (1961, p.242).

NU’s elder sister Rosalind witnessed this event, and years later recalled to her daughter Chandrani, how at the age of six she had the frightening experience of peering through the door into the street and seeing the commotion and bloodshed. NU would have been only three at the time. Even if he did not recall this riot, he may have been aware of the more widespread riots between the Sinhala and Muslim communities that occurred later in 1915.

Education and Illiteracy

During a period of expanding education in the early 20th century, the Hambantota district (as noted in Chapter 1- https://island.lk/unchanging-hambantota/), was among the least-developed in the island. The Superintendent of the 1911 Census, E.B. Denham, referred to the district, in terms of literacy, as “undoubtedly the most backward Low-country District during the decade” (Denham, 1912, p.407, emphasis added).

Transitions in dress reflecting two cultures

Among the Sinhala community of Hambantota, the literacy figures in 1901 were 27% for males, but only 1.7% for females; and by 1911, the males were still only 31% literate, and the females, 2.2%. Even in the more developed neighbouring districts, Sinhala female literacy was low. For example, the Matara district had 7% female literacy in 1911, while the Galle district rate was 14% (ibid, pp.404-7). By contrast, in the same year, 26.8% of women in Colombo were literate (ibid, p.412).

NU, who was very attached to his mother, frequently referred to her inability to read and write. Of his mother, who was from Devundara in the Matara district, he said:

My mother was very warm-hearted. She was not literate. She could not even sign her own name. But she created for her children a loving home where all of us were equally important and each one of us received the same measure of concern and affection. She had the time to spend with us, and it was this aspect of my home life that made me, years later, when I married, spend time with my children even though I was often busy and tired, because I wanted them to feel that I was concerned about every aspect of their lives. (interview by Manel Abhayaratne)

NU’s daughter Neiliya remembers her paternal grandmother as a ‘carbon copy’ of her own mother:

The only difference was that the former could neither read nor write. She was, however, the moving spirit behind her family and children, seven of whom lived into their eighties and beyond. (Neiliya Perera,2006)

In spite of her illiteracy, NU’s mother had a sharp mind and, according to all accounts, was the brains in the family. Thrifty and enterprising, she lent money informally, on the security of gold sovereigns, to women of the neighbourhood, many of whom were Muslim. Her method of calculation was based on a measurement of time from one poya (full-moon) day to the next. She would mentally calculate the interest and would waive part of it if the item was redeemed before the end of this period (Chandrani Jayawardena, quoting her mother’s recollections). This was not uncommon, as women from low-income groups had, and continue to have, their own means of survival, which could also include the seettu (a system of saving), lace-making, coir-spinning, mat-weaving, and other income- generating small ventures.

The Consciousness of Caste

In Sri Lanka, caste and kinship networks – originally based on occupation – formed the basis of society, reinforced by traditional obligations to relatives. Southern Sri Lanka was a multi-caste region where a range of Sinhala castes were present. There were, however, clusters of persons belonging to specific castes who, historically, were concentrated in certain areas. The Durava caste, to which NU’s parents belonged, was one of the smaller but more important castes of the Southern and Western provinces.

In the 1824 Census, in which caste was recorded for the first time, the Durava were reported as forming around 5.6% of the low-country Sinhala population, with pockets of the Durava caste in specific areas – Tangalle 9.5%, Colombo 4.7%, Galle 3.7% and Chilaw 4.1% (Ryan, 1953, p.264). During the 19th century, however, changes took place with the development of the colonial economy and the increased migration of people to Colombo in search of employment. Bryce Ryan, writing in 1953, noted that the economic backgrounds among the Durava ranged from “rich to very poor” in urban areas, but the majority, in rural areas, were “peasant cultivators and labourers.”

. Humorous depictions of the “Resthouse experience,”

From the time of Dutch occupation onwards, this caste had moved from traditional occupations at village level into other areas of activity available under the colonial economy, especially benefiting from education, economic opportunities and urban expansion during British rule.

By the early 20th century, a significant number of the Durava were part of the middle and lower- middle class of Colombo. Through the education process, they qualified for government positions in clerical and other white-collar employment, and many became lawyers, doctors, teachers and academics.

In a caste- and class-conscious society, the family of NU (like many others of the region) were aware of the limitations of caste-based rural life and would seek to move into the modern world where status was judged on education, merit and achievement, and not solely on caste.

Inevitably, bright males in the family were supported and financed by relatives, so that they could achieve success and thereby elevate the status of the whole family. The key to success was education in the English language, and studious boys often moved from small missionary or government schools to the larger, more prestigious schools in the provincial capitals, and even on to major schools in Colombo, which provided a superior academic education.

Chandrani and her mother Rosalind, NU’s elder sister

Verandah of Hambantota Resthouse

The Resthouse Culture

At the time of NU’s birth, his father U.J. Diyonis was the resthouse keeper at Hambantota. He also possessed a buggy cart and some acres of paddy land in Tangalle. It had been his wife’s uncle, Richard Gunasekera, a clerk to the District Mudaliyar of Magampattu, who had advised him to apply for the post. Diyonis, of an independent frame of mind, was also, as NU’s daughter Neiliya describes him: “a man who had a similar temperament to my father, but without his brilliance.” By ‘temperament,’ she was referring to Diyonis’ and NU’s quick temper and impatience.

Resthouses, which were a colonial innovation, served as places where government officials could lodge during their field circuits. They were located throughout the island, mainly along public roads – often at attractive sites. In 1911 there were 193 resthouses (Denham, 1912, p.5). Resthouses were also used by a few local residents who could afford them, to spend a quiet holiday or as a place of sojourn during a long journey (de Zoysa manuscript, p.42). The post of resthouse keeper was a respected one, usually being conferred the title of arachchi. The job carried the responsibility of providing congenial accommodation and food, mostly for colonial officials and tourists.

: NU’a father, UJ Diyonis

: NU’s mother, Gajawirage Podinona

In their architecture, resthouses generally conformed to a set style. A partially enclosed verandah ran along its entire length; from this, doors led to the dining room in the centre, and to bedrooms on either side. Behind the dining room was a space that served as a reception room, which also had a liquor bar. The kitchen and the rooms of the waiters and other employees were still further toward the back (de Zoysa manuscript, p.42). The professional attributes of a resthouse keeper were civility, knowledge of English sufficient to communicate with British officials or other visitors, and an ability to ensure their comfortable stay, as well as to handle the staff under his authority.

Diyonis, on these counts, was much praised by the visitors to his resthouse, which overlooked the beautiful bay of Hambantota. In the course of his work, he had to show courtesy, and provide efficient service, clean accommodation, good western and local food, and to be deferential to foreign guests, colonial bureaucrats and important locals who visited the resthouse. Leonard Woolf, who spent three years in Hambantota – living in the AGA’s house near the resthouse – would have been a frequent patron with his guests, interacting closely with U.J. Diyonis. (1. Interestingly, decades later, while studying in Britain,

NU’s son Lal interviewed Woolf several times on British land policy and the chena system of cultivation.)

In those days of strict dress codes and protocol, the personal appearance and grooming of the resthouse staff would have been important. From many accounts, both NU’s mother and father were conscious about their appearance, and paid great attention to detail – traits NU shared. NU’s daughter Neiliya recalls the great pride that her grandfather Diyonis took in his appearance, and how he was always dressed in a white cloth and coat with gold buttons.

Sinhala women dressed in typical ‘southern’ style

Neiliya also describes how her grandmother would always be immaculately dressed in a white blouse with wrist-length sleeves styled in the southern fashion, with delicate lace-inset panels. With this she would wear a light-coloured cloth, which would ‘glisten like silk.’ Being practical, her grandmother would wear a darker cloth when doing housework, but would change into a better cloth when receiving guests. Confirmation of this fastidiousness on her grandmother’s part, as regards her person and abode, can be gleaned from Neiliya’s interesting childhood impression:

[My grandparents’] house itself was spotlessly clean, the cement floor gleaming, just like my grandmother, who was always dressed in a white blouse, edged with lace and with detachable gold buttons down the front and a self-coloured cloth.

Sri Lankan ‘Moor’

For those who knew or encountered NU in his later life, it is apparent that he reflected this upbringing. Many who met him were struck by his meticulousness and disciplined approach to his physical appearance, grooming and dress, in his surroundings and in his work. Indeed, many of those who came into his presence would witness how his eye would immediately hone in on anything out of place. He was an extremely orderly person who liked everything in its place, and many people have remarked upon the style and grace in which he entertained people at his home or in his office.

One can trace these qualities in NU back to his childhood. Being an observant and bright child, NU would have watched all the comings and goings at the resthouse, and the organizational problems his father coped with, including catering, accounting, and keeping the system running efficiently. He would have keenly watched the colonial officials, foreign tourists and dignitaries and members of the local elite – their lifestyles, mannerisms and eating and drinking habits – and had more than a glimpse of how the privileged lived.

His father may have shown him the names in the visitors’ book; and NU probably decided, early in life, that he would emancipate himself from his social origins and become part of the elite whom he had observed at close quarters in his father’s place of work. But he did not have many illusions about the difficulty of achieving such ambitions. The gulf between ‘them’ and ‘us’ was wide, and he would have sensed that the one possibility of social mobility and of finding a way out of Hambantota was through education.

Out of the disparate and contradictory tendencies, which were produced during colonial rule, two cultures developed in Sri Lankan society, which were not mutually exclusive. One, disdainful of colonial influence, emphasized traditional values and loyalty to ethnic, caste and kinship group and the extended family.

Hambantota coastline with boats

The other, a modernizing culture, required a rational worldview, western education, more individualism and knowledge of English. The educated youth embodied these different trends in their outlook. They looked forward and back. They wanted to modernize and to better themselves economically and socially. The majority looked for white-collar jobs, a few gaining membership in prestigious professions.

‘Modernization’ was conceived by them in the image of the colonial rulers (though those rulers never accepted them as their social equals). Yet, those who wanted to move on were also, like the mass of society, rooted in the past.

It was an interesting case of the coexistence of tradition and modernity, and a hybrid ‘two-culture’ society. NU mirrored this combined development. He was a man of two worlds – a Sinhala Buddhist, and a Durava, but educated in English – conforming in his later life to a westernized lifestyle and universalistic outlook, while also remaining conscious of ethno-religious and caste issues. An Indian writer once said that, people in India may have left the village, but the village never left them.

This was true of many Sri Lankans from a rural background, who never forgot their roots and held onto certain traditional practices, one of them being the obligation to help family members and relations. There are many anecdotes that show how, throughout his life, NU engaged in the traditional practice of helping others: his parents, sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews, along with many others who appealed to him for assistance.

By Kumari Jayawardena and Jennifer Moragoda

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Features

The US-China rivalry and challenges facing the South

Published

10 hours ago

2025/12/11

Sahan Weerasooriya

Prof. Neil DeVotta making his presentation at the RCSS.

The US-China rivalry could be said to make-up the ‘stuff and substance’ of world politics today but rarely does the international politics watcher and student of the global South in particular get the opportunity of having a balanced and comprehensive evaluation of this crucial relationship. But such a balanced assessment is vitally instrumental in making sense of current world power relations.

Thanks to the Regional Centre for Strategic Studies (RCSS), Colombo the above window of opportunity was opened on December 8th for those sections of the public zealously pursuing an understanding of current issues in global politics. The knowledge came via a forum that was conducted at the RCSS titled, ‘The US-China Rivalry and Implications for the Indo-Pacific’, where Professor Neil DeVotta of the Wake Forest University of North Carolina in the US, featured as the speaker.

A widely representative audience was present at the forum, including senior public servants, the diplomatic corps, academics, heads of civil society organizations, senior armed forces personnel and the media. The event was ably managed by the Executive Director of the RCSS, retired ambassador Ravinatha Aryasinha. Following the main presentation a lively Q&A session followed, where many a point of interest was aired and discussed.

While there is no doubt that China is fast catching up with the US with regard to particularly military, economic, scientific and technological capability, Prof. DeVotta helped to balance this standard projection of ‘China’s steady rise’ by pointing to some vital facts about China, the omission of which would amount to the observer having a somewhat uninformed perception of global political realities.

The following are some of the facts about contemporary China that were highlighted by Prof. DeVotta:

* Money is steadily moving out of China and the latter’ s economy is slowing down. In fact the country is in a ‘ Middle Income Trap’. That is, it has reached middle income status but has failed to move to upper income status since then.

* People in marked numbers are moving out of China. It is perhaps little known that some Chinese are seeking to enter the US with a view to living there. The fact is that China’s population too is on the decline.

* Although the private sector is operative in China, there has been an increase in Parastatals; that is, commercial organizations run by the state are also very much in the fore. In fact private enterprises have begun to have ruling Communist Party cells in them.

* China is at its ‘peak power’ but this fact may compel it to act ‘aggressively’ in the international sphere. For instance, it may be compelled to invade Taiwan.

* A Hard Authoritarianism could be said to characterize central power in China today, whereas the expectation in some quarters is that it would shift to a Soft Authoritarian system, as is the case in Singapore.

* China’s influence in the West is greater than it has ever been.

The speaker was equally revelatory about the US today. Just a few of these observations are:

* The US is in a ‘Unipolar Moment’. That is, it is the world’s prime power. Such positions are usually not longstanding but in the case of the US this position has been enjoyed by it for quite a while.

* China is seen by the US as a ‘Revisionist Power’ as opposed to being a ‘Status Quo Power.’ That is China is for changing the world system slowly.

* The US in its latest national security strategy is paying little attention to Soft Power as opposed to Hard Power.

* In terms of this strategy the US would not allow any single country to dominate the Asia-Pacific region.

* The overall tone of this strategy is that the US should step back and allow regional powers to play a greater role in international politics.

* The strategy also holds that the US must improve economic ties with India, but there is very little mention of China in the plan.

Given these observations on the current international situation, a matter of the foremost importance for the economically weakest countries of the South is to figure out how best they could survive materially within it. Today there is no cohesive and vibrant collective organization that could work towards the best interests of the developing world and Dr. DeVotta was more or less correct when he said that the Non-alignment Movement (NAM) has declined.

However, this columnist is of the view that rather being a spent force, NAM was allowed to die out by the South. NAM as an idea could never become extinct as long as economic and material inequalities between North and South exist. Needless to say, this situation is remaining unchanged since the eighties when NAM allowed itself to be a non-entity so to speak in world affairs.

The majority of Southern countries did not do themselves any good by uncritically embracing the ‘market economy’ as a panacea for their ills. As has been proved, this growth paradigm only aggravated the South’s development ills, except for a few states within its fold.

Considering that the US would be preferring regional powers to play a more prominent role in the international economy and given the US’ preference to be a close ally of India, the weakest of the South need to look into the possibility of tying up closely with India and giving the latter a substantive role in advocating the South’s best interests in the councils of the world.

To enable this to happen the South needs to ‘get organized’ once again. The main differences between the past and the present with regard to Southern affairs is that in the past the South had outstanding leaders, such as Jawaharlal Nehru of India, who could doughtily stand up for it. As far as this columnist could ascertain, it is the lack of exceptional leaders that in the main led to the decline of NAM and other South-centred organizations.

Accordingly, an urgent task for the South is to enable the coming into being of exceptional leaders who could work untiringly towards the realization of its just needs, such as economic equity. Meanwhile, Southern countries would do well to, indeed, follow the principles of NAM and relate cordially with all the major powers so as to realizing their best interests.

Features

Sri Lanka and Global Climate Emergency: Lessons of Cyclone Ditwah

Published

10 hours ago

2025/12/11

Sahan Weerasooriya

Floods caused by Cyclone Ditwah. (Image courtesy Vanni Hope)

Tropical Cyclone Ditwah, which made landfall in Sri Lanka on 28 November 2025, is considered the country’s worst natural disaster since the deadly 2004 tsunami. It intensified the northeast monsoon, bringing torrential rainfall, massive flooding, and 215 severe landslides across seven districts. The cyclone left a trail of destruction, killing nearly 500 people, displacing over a million, destroying homes, roads, and railway lines, and disabling critical infrastructure including 4,000 transmission towers. Total economic losses are estimated at USD 6–7 billion—exceeding the country’s foreign reserves.

The Sri Lankan Armed Forces have led the relief efforts, aided by international partners including India and Pakistan. A Sri Lanka Air Force helicopter crashed in Wennappuwa, killing the pilot and injuring four others, while five Sri Lanka Navy personnel died in Chundikkulam in the north while widening waterways to mitigate flooding. The bravery and sacrifice of the Sri Lankan Armed Forces during this disaster—as in past disasters—continue to be held in high esteem by grateful Sri Lankans.

The Sri Lankan government, however, is facing intense criticism for its handling of Cyclone Ditwah, including failure to heed early warnings available since November 12, a slow and poorly coordinated response, and inadequate communication with the public. Systemic issues—underinvestment in disaster management, failure to activate protocols, bureaucratic neglect, and a lack of coordination among state institutions—are also blamed for avoidable deaths and destruction.

The causes of climate disasters such as Cyclone Ditwah go far beyond disaster preparedness. Faulty policymaking, mismanagement, and decades of unregulated economic development have eroded the island’s natural defenses. As climate scientist Dr. Thasun Amarasinghe notes:

“Sri Lankan wetlands—the nation’s most effective natural flood-control mechanism—have been bulldosed, filled, encroached upon, and sold. Many of these developments were approved despite warnings from environmental scientists, hydrologists, and even state institutions.”

Sri Lanka’s current vulnerabilities also stem from historical deforestation and plantation agriculture associated with colonial-era export development. Forest cover declined from 82% in 1881 to 70% in 1900, and to 54–50% by 1948, when British rule ended. It fell further to 44% in 1954 and to 16.5% by 2019.

Deforestation contributes an estimated 10–12% of global greenhouse gas emissions. Beyond removing a vital carbon sink, it damages water resources, increases runoff and erosion, and heightens flood and landslide risk. Soil-depleting monocrop agriculture further undermines traditional multi-crop systems that regenerate soil fertility, organic matter, and biodiversity.

In Sri Lanka’s Central Highlands, which were battered by Cyclone Ditwah, deforestation and unregulated construction had destabilised mountain slopes. Although high-risk zones prone to floods and landslides had long been identified, residents were not relocated, and construction and urbanisation continued unchecked.

Sri Lanka was the first country in Asia to adopt neoliberal economic policies. With the “Open Economy” reforms of 1977, a capitalist ideology equating human well-being with quantitative growth and material consumption became widespread. Development efforts were rushed, poorly supervised, and frequently approved without proper environmental assessment.

Privatisation and corporate deregulation weakened state oversight. The recent economic crisis and shrinking budgets further eroded environmental and social protections, including the maintenance of drainage networks, reservoirs, and early-warning systems. These forces have converged to make Sri Lanka a victim of a dual climate threat: gradual environmental collapse and sudden-onset disasters.

Sri Lanka: A Climate Victim

Sri Lanka’s carbon emissions remain relatively small but are rising. The impact of climate change on the island, however, is immense. Annual mean air temperature has increased significantly in recent decades (by 0.016 °C annually between 1961 and 1990). Sea-level rise has caused severe coastal erosion—0.30–0.35 meters per year—affecting nearly 55% of the shoreline. The 2004 tsunami demonstrated the extreme vulnerability of low-lying coastal plains to rising seas.

The Cyclone Ditwah catastrophe was neither wholly new nor surprising. In 2015, the Geneva-based Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre (IDMC) identified Sri Lanka as the South Asian country with the highest relative risk of disaster-related displacement: “For every million inhabitants, 15,000 are at risk of being displaced every year.”

IDMC also noted that in 2017 the country experienced seven disaster events—mainly floods and landslides—resulting in 135,000 new displacements and that Sri Lanka “is also at risk for slow-onset impacts such as soil degradation, saltwater intrusion, water scarcity, and crop failure”.

Sri Lanka ranked sixth among countries most affected by extreme weather events in 2018 (Germanwatch) and second in 2019 (Global Climate Risk Index). Given these warnings, Cyclone Ditwah should not have been a surprise. Scientists have repeatedly cautioned that warmer oceans fuel stronger cyclones and warmer air holds more moisture, leading to extreme rainfall. As the Ceylon Today editorial of December 1, 2025 also observed:

“…our monsoons are no longer predictable. Cyclones form faster, hit harder, and linger longer. Rainfall becomes erratic, intense, and destructive. This is not a coincidence; it is a pattern.”

Without urgent action, even more extreme weather events will threaten Sri Lanka’s habitability and physical survival.

A Global Crisis

Extreme weather events—droughts, wildfires, cyclones, and floods—are becoming the global norm. Up to 1.2 billion people could become “climate refugees” by 2050. Global warming is disrupting weather patterns, destabilising ecosystems, and posing severe risks to life on Earth. Indonesia and Thailand were struck by the rare and devastating Tropical Cyclone Senyar in late November 2025, occurring simultaneously with Cyclone Ditwah’s landfall in Sri Lanka.

More than 75% of global greenhouse gas emissions—and nearly 90% of carbon emissions—come from burning coal, oil, and gas, which supply about 80% of the world’s energy. Countries in the Global South, like Sri Lanka, which contribute least to greenhouse gas emissions, are among the most vulnerable to climate devastation. Yet wealthy nations and multilateral institutions, including the World Bank, continue to subsidise fossil fuel exploration and production. Global climate policymaking—including COP 30 in Belém, Brazil, in 2025—has been criticised as ineffectual and dominated by fossil fuel interests.

If the climate is not stabilised, long-term planetary forces beyond human control may be unleashed. Technology and markets are not inherently the problem; rather, the issue lies in the intentions guiding them. The techno-market worldview, which promotes the belief that well-being increases through limitless growth and consumption, has contributed to severe economic inequality and more frequent extreme weather events. The climate crisis, in turn, reflects a profound mismatch between the exponential expansion of a profit-driven global economy and the far slower evolution of human consciousness needed to uphold morality, compassion, generosity and wisdom.

Sri Lanka’s 2025–26 budget, adopted on November 14, 2025—just as Cyclone Ditwah loomed—promised subsidised land and electricity for companies establishing AI data centers in the country.

President Anura Kumara Dissanayake told Parliament: “Don’t come questioning us on why we are giving land this cheap; we have to make these sacrifices.”

Yet Sri Lanka is a highly water-stressed nation, and a growing body of international research shows that AI data centers consume massive amounts of water and electricity, contributing significantly to greenhouse gas emissions.

The failure of the narrow, competitive techno-market approach underscores the need for an ecological and collective framework capable of addressing the deeper roots of this existential crisis—both for Sri Lanka and the world.

A landslide in Sri Lanka (AFP picture)

Ecological and Human Protection

Ecological consciousness demands

recognition that humanity is part of the Earth, not separate from it. Policies to address climate change must be grounded in this understanding, rather than in worldviews that prize infinite growth and technological dominance. Nature has primacy over human-created systems: the natural world does not depend on humanity, while humanity cannot survive without soil, water, air, sunlight, and the Earth’s essential life-support systems.

Although a climate victim today, Sri Lanka is also home to an ancient ecological civilization dating back to the arrival of the Buddhist monk Mahinda Thera in the 3rd century BCE. Upon meeting King Devanampiyatissa, who was out hunting in Mihintale, Mahinda Thera delivered one of the earliest recorded teachings on ecological interdependence and the duty of rulers to protect nature:

“O great King, the birds of the air and the beasts of the forest have as much right to live and move about in any part of this land as thou. The land belongs to the people and all living beings; thou art only its guardian.”

A stone inscription at Mihintale records that the king forbade the killing of animals and the destruction of trees. The Mihintale Wildlife Sanctuary is believed to be the world’s first.

Sri Lanka’s ancient dry-zone irrigation system—maintained over more than a millennium—stands as a marvel of sustainable development. Its network of interconnected reservoirs, canals, and sluices captured monsoon waters, irrigated fields, controlled floods, and even served as a defensive barrier. Floods occurred, but historical records show no disasters comparable in scale, severity, or frequency to those of today. Ancient rulers, including the legendary reservoir-builder King Parākramabāhu, and generations of rice farmers managed their environment with remarkable discipline and ecological wisdom.

The primacy of nature became especially evident when widespread power outages and the collapse of communication networks during Cyclone Ditwah forced people to rely on one another for survival. The disaster ignited spontaneous acts of compassion and solidarity across all communities—men and women, rich and poor, Buddhists, Christians, Muslims, and Hindus. Local and international efforts mobilized to rescue, shelter, feed, and emotionally support those affected. These actions demonstrated a profound human instinct for care and cooperation, often filling vacuums left by formal emergency systems.

Yet spontaneous solidarity alone is insufficient. Sri Lanka urgently needs policies on sustainable development, environmental protection, and climate resilience. These include strict, science-based regulation of construction; protection of forests and wetlands; proper maintenance of reservoirs; and climate-resilient infrastructure. Schools should teach environmental literacy that builds unity and solidarity, rather than controversial and divisive curriculum changes like the planned removal of history and introduction of contested modules on gender and sexuality.

If the IMF and international creditors—especially BlackRock, Sri Lanka’s largest sovereign bondholder, valued at USD 13 trillion—are genuinely concerned about the country’s suffering, could they not cancel at least some of Sri Lanka’s sovereign debt and support its rebuilding efforts? Addressing the climate emergency and the broader existential crisis facing Sri Lanka and the world ultimately requires an evolution in human consciousness guided by morality, compassion, generosity and wisdom. (Courtesy: IPS NEWS)

Dr Asoka Bandarage is the author of Colonialism in Sri Lanka: The Political Economy of the Kandyan Highlands, 1833-1886 (Mouton) Women, Population and Global Crisis: A Politico-Economic Analysis (Zed Books), The Separatist Conflict in Sri Lanka: Terrorism, Ethnicity, Political Economy, ( Routledge), Sustainability and Well-Being: The Middle Path to Environment, Society and the Economy (Palgrave MacMillan) Crisis in Sri Lanka and the World: Colonial and Neoliberal Origins, Ecological and Collective Alternatives (De Gruyter) and numerous other publications. She serves on the Advisory Boards of the Interfaith Moral Action on Climate and Critical Asian Studies.

Features

Cliff and Hank recreate golden era of ‘The Young Ones’

Published

10 hours ago

2025/12/11

Sahan Weerasooriya

Cliff Richard and Hank Marvin’s reunion concert at the Riverside Theatre in Perth, Australia, on 01 November, 2025, was a night to remember.

The duo, who first performed together in the 1950s as part of The Shadows, brought the house down with their classic hits and effortless chemistry.

The concert, part of Cliff’s ‘Can’t Stop Me Now’ tour, featured iconic songs like ‘Summer Holiday’, ‘The Young Ones’, ‘Bachelor Boy’, ‘Living Doll’ and a powerful rendition of ‘Mistletoe and Wine.’

Cliff, 85, and Hank, with his signature red Fender Stratocaster, proved that their music and friendship are timeless.

According to reports, the moment the lights dimmed and the first chords of ‘Move It’ rang out, the crowd knew they were in for something extraordinary.

Backed by a full band, and surrounded by dazzling visuals, Cliff strode onto the stage in immaculate form – energetic and confident – and when Hank Marvin joined him mid-set, guitar in hand, the audience erupted in applause that shook the hall.

Together they launched into ‘The Young Ones’, their timeless 1961 hit which brought the crowd to its feet, with many in attendance moved to tears.

The audience was treated to a journey through time, with vintage film clips and state-of-the-art visuals adding to the nostalgic atmosphere.

Highlights of the evening included Cliff’s powerful vocals, Hank’s distinctive guitar riffs, and their playful banter on stage.

Cliff posing for The Island photographer … February,
2007

Cliff paused between songs to reflect on their shared journey saying:

“It’s been a lifetime of songs, memories, and friendship. Hank and I started this adventure when we were just boys — and look at us now, still up here making noise!”

As the final chords of ‘Congratulations’ filled the theatre, the crowd rose for a thunderous standing ovation that lasted several minutes.

Cliff waved, Hank gave a humble bow, and, together, they left the stage, arm-in-arm, to the refrain of “We’re the young ones — and we always will be.”

Reviews of the show were glowing, with fans and critics alike praising the duo’s energy, camaraderie, and enduring talent.

Overall, the Cliff Richard and Hank Marvin reunion concert was a truly special experience, celebrating the music and friendship that has captivated audiences for decades.

When Cliff Richard visited Sri Lanka, in February, 2007, I was invited to meet him, in his suite, at a hotel, in Colombo, and I presented him with my music page, which carried his story, and he was impressed.

In return, he personally autographed a souvenir for me … that was Cliff Richard, a truly wonderful human being.