Features
Politics and the Plantation Wage
by Anura Gunasekera
President Ranil Wickremesinghe chose the Ceylon Workers’ Congress May Day platform, in Kotagala, to announce the increase of the plantation workers’ daily wage to Rs 1,700.00. An unexpected presidential fiat, delivered just a few months before a possible election by a potential presidential candidate, was made public from the political platform of a major plantation trade union, generally seen as pro-government. The self-evident political implications do not merit either debate or elaboration.
Preamble
In a rational world, in any industry, the employer and the employee should arrive at a fair wage through a consultative process. The unsolicited intervention of a third force with an agenda unrelated to the interests of either party, is undesirable from all points of view. Still, there are precedents, when sitting presidents have mandated wage increases in the plantation sector, for patently political reasons, ignoring the possible toxic economic consequences.
Abrupt and illogically high increases are self-defeating, as sudden, unmanageable cost inflation force enterprises to withhold or diminish essential inputs, deny upgrades, abandon new investment and, in extreme cases, even close down. Unviable enterprises cannot discharge responsibilities to society, stakeholders, the economy and the environment. When operational costs suddenly exceed revenue the only relief is a magical increase in the selling price. Bur miracles do not happen in the real commercial world.
Products prices at public auctions are determined by unpredictable local and international market dynamics of supply and demand. Hence, the producer needs to be able to operate within a framework of reasonably priced inputs, especially the worker’s daily wage, which, prior to the above increase, constituted around 65% of the unit production cost; that could well be the largest labour cost component in the unit production cost of any factory produced item, in any industry, anywhere in the world.
Estimates are that the increase of the plantation wage to Rs 1,700.00 (with EPF/ETF- LKR 1.955.00 per day) will raise the above component to about 75% of the unit cost of production. The balance input proportion, representing fertilizer, energy, chemicals, other material requirements, machinery, vehicle and building maintenance, and welfare and contingencies, offers minimal margin for cost management. With that kind of lop-sided production cost distribution, no legitimate industry can remain viable.
Market Realities
Trade unionists who seek wage increases linked directly to auction price fluctuations, and politicians who support such proposals when it suits personal political aspirations, ignore the realities of international trends of supply and demand. Wage increases, whilst being of crucial importance, especially in periods of rapid cost-of-living inflation, still need to be sustainable in the context of the relevant industry .
An analysis of world market prices of Tea and Rubber in the last three decades, will demonstrate a consistent pattern of long troughs relieved by sudden, short-lived peaks. These trends are directly linked to weather, climate, production levels, changes in consumption patterns, resultant supply and demand, exchange rate movements , inflationary or recessive trends in consuming economies, and political climate and state-imposed trade policies and tariffs.
In the case of Rubber, in addition to all of the above, speculation in futures markets, crude oil prices, innovations in synthetic alternatives and fluctuating demand in high consumption industries, such as tyre and vehicle manufacture, are key determinants in demand and price. These factors contribute to a permanent state of commodity-market volatility. They also converge to fashion “Global Economic Health”, which determines the buying and selling price of all internationally traded commodities.
All of the above is to demonstrate that, whilst accepting the imperative of a living wage for the plantation worker, that it is unrealistic and imprudent to determine a wage increase, based on industry revenues during periods of peak prices.
Impact Distribution
The mandated increase will impact tea, rubber and oil palm plantations in the RPC sector, private “bought leaf factories”, mostly in the Southern and Sabaragamuwa provinces and, in particular, about 500,000 tea small-holders, again located mostly in the above provinces. The segment delivers 72% of the National Tea Production and 65% of the National Rubber Production, and represents a community of about 1.5 million citizens. That important vote-bank, primarily Sinhala speaking, is concentrated in the South, Sabaragamuwa and in a wide swathe in the mid-country, between Pussellawa and Matale. In a presidential election these people may not vote for the man who, with one irrational and cynical gesture, impoverished them.
Smallholder Segment
Contrary to popular belief that only a few “rich companies” will be affected by the wage increase, in actual fact, the smallholder will be the biggest loser.
Due to contribution to total national production, the smallholder is the most important segment in both Tea and Rubber. Individual holdings range from around 50 ha to half-hectare extents or less. This segment relies on external labour for harvesting (and for other work as well), generally on the payment of Rs 40 per kg of green leaf. Consequent to the mandated increase, harvesting one kg of green leaf will cost them around Rs 80, with no possibility of additional revenue. The green leaf is purchased by the manufacturing factory, based on the Tea Commissioner’s formula, linked to the Factory Net Sale Average, which is determined by auction prices. Any revision of the current green payment formula, designed to relieve the supplier, will bankrupt 427 private tea factories which, collectively, manufacture 70% of the national tea production.
A smallholder, confronted by suddenly increasing input costs and diminished revenues, may respond by harvesting less often, resulting in lower crops and a poor standard of green leaf. That will affect made tea quality, resulting in lower auction prices, a diminished net sale average for the manufacturing factory and, again, a proportionate diminution of the green leaf payment to the smallholder/supplier.
Poor quality tea coming in to the auction will affect demand, diminish the national net sale average and the competitiveness of Ceylon tea, with a corresponding impact on foreign exchange earnings. Exporters seeking quality Tea are likely to move to Kenya, India, Vietnam or Indonesia, and still buy reasonable quality at one USD per kilos less than in Colombo. The overall outcome will be massive hit on every aspect of the national industry, including value-added exports.
Alternately, the smallholder may reduce costs by withholding or minimizing inputs such as fertilizer and field cultural practices. Some may either abandon their holdings or convert to other crops. In combination all these will lead to the diminution of national crop outputs which, currently, are at a three-decade low.
Up to now the most efficient operational model of tea and rubber production was the smallholder segment. The mandated wage increase has thrown that in to total disarray.
Impact on Rubber Industry
The Rubber sector will face a similar fate. Our national production has declined from 152 mn kg in 2012, to 70 mn kg in 2022 ( RRI statistics). With 65% of the production coming from the small holder sector, the wage increase will have an impact as in Tea. The prospect of reduced revenue will inhibit future replanting of rubber, which has a gestation period of six years and a productive life of about 20 years. About 60% of the national rubber production is used locally whilst annual imports are around 60 mn kg a year. The outcome will be a further decline in national production and an increase in imports, if local manufacturers of rubber-based goods are to maintain current production levels. The result will be an increased outflow of foreign exchange.
Key Economic Factors and Paradoxes
Of all major tea growing countries, Sri Lanka has the highest cost of production, highest labour cost and the lowest productivity. The new Sri Lankan wage will be about double the Indian labour cost, four times that of Bangladesh, and about 30% more than Kenya, where national average field productivity is about double that of Sri Lanka.
This 70% increase will cost the Regional Planation Companies an additional LKR 28 billion a year and with high gearing being a common feature in the sector, will also affect banks and other financial institutions adversely. The total additional annual cost to the industry will be LKR 81 billion. The current auction tea average is LKR 1,250 per kg and, with the new wage increase, the national cost of production will increase to around LKR 1,450 per kg.
Prior to this increase, the Tea/Rubber wages board minimum determination was the second highest in the country. A demand for a proportionate increase by other local industries would lead to an economic disaster in the country. Another interesting feature is that a plantation worker clocking in for a minimum 25 days per month, working a four-five hour day, will now earn much more than a garment worker who works a minimum of eight hours per day, excluding meal breaks. In fact, both a graduate teacher and a fully qualified nurse, will earn less.
A common perception is that a higher wage will entice workers to stay on the plantation, rather than migrate to other employment. Nothing could be further from the truth. Since 1992 to-date, the basic daily wage has increased from LKR 66 to LKR 1,700, whilst, during the same period, the actual worker component in the RPC sector, has declined from 32% of the resident population to 17%.
The only method by which the plantation worker can be guaranteed a fair income, whilst maintaining the viability of the industry which sustains them, is to move to an output-based payment model. Proposals based on the smallholder model, offered by the RPC sector, guaranteeing the worker up to LKR 2,000/- per day, have been steadfastly resisted by the trade unions as such models would liberate the worker from the clutches of the unions. An independent worker, earning a decent wage and in control of his own destiny, renders the union irrelevant. That is a fearful outcome for politically-aligned unions which rely on monthly worker contributions for their existence.
Consequences of Political Intervention in Enterprise
In this country State intervention in the plantation industry has a dismal history. The nationalization in the 1970’s led to the dismantling of a management system of proven efficiency, and its replacement with a state apparatus, which, over the next couple of decades, led to the accumulation of vast liabilities. That, along with other inadequacies, compelled the re-privatization of the sector in 1992.
In 2016, then President , Maithripala Sirisena, on the advice of a Buddhist monk, overnight banned the use of Glyphosate, essential for weed control in the plantations. In 2021, then president Gotabhaya Rajapaksa, on the advice of an inner coterie with no experience in plantation management, similarly banned inorganic fertilizer and oil palm. The consequences were disastrous crop declines, freezing of both ongoing and planned investment, massive operational losses in all three sectors and the disruption of the Tea, Rubber and Oil Palm industries, from which they have not recovered yet.
For close upon 200 years, the local plantation industry has demonstrated incredible resilience in surviving a series of disasters, some natural and many man-made. This mandated wage, though, may be the last straw. Historians may one day record that the great industry birthed by a Scotsman named James Taylor, was strangled to death by a Sri Lankan named Ranil Wickremesinghe.
Anura Gunasekera
(The writer is a retired plantation specialist with over 50 years experience, covering the Agency House era, the State-management interlude and the Regional Plantation Company period.)
Features
Revolt in the Temple: Poverty as Structural Control
The underlying issue in Anuradhapura is a struggle between a few families who, for years, have waged a quiet cold war over control of the Udamaluwa. Similar situations exist in Mihintale as well. These places, among others, are treated as treasures of Buddhism but, in practice, function as tightly controlled economic centres. The same pattern repeats in Kandy around the Temple of the Sacred Tooth Relic and in Kataragama at the shrine of God Kataragama. Variations of it exist across religious spaces of Islam, Catholicism, and Hinduism too, where institutional authority becomes indistinguishable from localised power networks. What is presented as sacred order often operates as inherited control.
It is indeed devastating to see situations where parents have no alternative but to expose their children to predators in robes for survival. This has nothing to do with religion itself, but with human pathology in the context of survival. These are the questions that demand answers, not superficial responses that treat symptoms while ignoring the conditions that produce them. What is more shocking and disturbing is not the tragedy itself, but the reactions to it. Social media has overwhelmed us, not towards understanding, but towards a fragmented cognitive state with no exit route.
A friend of mine in Nairobi used to keep all his electronic devices at home and go into the forest once a month, spending days there before returning. He called it “detoxification”, but in reality it was an escape from a system that no longer allows uninterrupted thought. Daily life is now saturated with unnecessary content, and attention itself has become a commodity extracted, processed, and sold back to us. This is where we have become unable to understand what really drives certain tragedies we endlessly react to, while remaining blind to the systems that quietly manufacture them.
Multi-dimensional poverty
Poverty is structural, poverty is political, and poverty is functional; it is a tool and a manoeuvring force of power. The question is no longer whether poverty exists, but who benefits from its persistence, and who is forced to survive within it. From education to medicine to basic food supply chains, countries like Sri Lanka are not simply mismanaged; they are structurally captured by a small number of actors who remain stable regardless of who is formally in power. Small-scale enterprises and NGO circuits that circulate foreign funding to “solve structural issues” often operate as hollow administrative performances, producing reports rather than transformation.
Poverty is not merely the absence of money. It is the absence of bandwidth, absence of protection, absence of time, and absence of cognitive stability. As Sendhil Mullainathan and Eldar Shafir state, “Scarcity captures the mind. Just as the starving subjects had food on their mind, when we experience scarcity of any kind, we become absorbed by it.” This is a description of how human cognition is structurally reorganized under constraint. Scarcity does not sit outside the person; it occupies them.
They also state, “Scarcity leads us to borrow and pushes us deeper into scarcity.” That is the mechanism that must be confronted without euphemism. Poverty is not only deprivation; it is a self-reinforcing trap in which survival decisions generate the next layer of crisis. Once a society crosses a certain threshold of scarcity, it stops producing long-term reasoning as a default condition. It produces short-term survival logic, often mistaken by outsiders for irrationality.
It is precisely here that public discourse becomes intellectually dishonest. Everything is translated into moral language because moral language is easier than structural analysis. But morality without structure becomes theatre. It produces outrage, not understanding, and repetition, not reform.
It is indeed brutal when an individual wearing religious insignia—whether robe, symbol, or institutional identity—is accused of acts that fundamentally contradict the moral authority attached to that position. It is equally brutal when institutions that depend entirely on trust begin to function as shields rather than safeguards. But the deeper question is not shock. The deeper question is what kind of social condition produces families who see placement within such institutions not only as devotion, but as a survival strategy under constraint.
Ethical decision-making
That is where the argument collapses into its most uncomfortable form. Poverty does not produce ethical decision-making environments. It produces constrained optimization under pressure. When food insecurity, debt, and social instability converge, institutional spaces that appear stable become transactional destinations for survival rather than moral choices. To interpret this as purely cultural failure is to deliberately ignore the structural compression of options.
Mullainathan and Shafir describe this clearly: “Instead of saying that scarcity ‘focuses,’ we could just as easily say that scarcity causes us to tunnel: to focus single-mindedly on managing the scarcity at hand.” That tunnelling effect is not abstract. It is visible wherever long-term planning collapses under immediate pressure. Systems then misread this as irresponsibility, when it is in fact cognitive overload produced by structure.
What is rarely acknowledged is how deeply this extends into governance itself. Institutions increasingly operate as if they are managing rational, unconstrained individuals. In reality, they are interacting with populations whose cognitive bandwidth is already structurally taxed. The result is policy failure interpreted as public non-compliance, enforcement interpreted as moral correction, and reform interpreted as communication failure rather than design failure.
Social media has intensified this distortion. It does not merely spread information; it destroys sequencing. Structural problems require temporal depth. Social media removes that depth and replaces it with instantaneous judgment. Every event becomes a surface object, detached from causality. The outcome is a society permanently reacting and never diagnosing.
Poverty, in this environment, becomes invisible in its real form. It is not seen as a continuous structural condition but as episodic failure. A scandal appears, is consumed, and disappears. Another replaces it. Nothing accumulates into understanding because attention itself is exhausted before synthesis can occur.
Modern Condition
The modern condition reflects a reversal of earlier social organization, where human relationships are embedded within abstract systems of finance, law, and administration that often fail to recognize the lived constraints of those they govern. In this disembedded state, institutions increasingly misinterpret human behaviour as their capacity for structural understanding weakens. At the same time, attempts to resolve systemic failures through expanding administrative complexity produce diminishing returns: more regulation, oversight, and reporting generate less coherence. Over time, institutions shift from functional effectiveness to symbolic performance, maintaining the appearance of control rather than achieving it.
This is why public outrage repeatedly fails to translate into structural change. Outrage is not a tool of reconstruction. It is a signal of system fatigue. It circulates, intensifies, and dissipates without altering the underlying architecture. Meanwhile, the conditions that produce repetition remain intact.
The most persistent illusion is that these are separate problems: poverty here, institutional misuse there, media distortion elsewhere. They are not separate. They are expressions of a single condition in which scarcity, complexity, symbolic authority, and fragmented enforcement interact without coordination. The system does not fail in one place; it fails in the gaps between these layers.
Symbolic systems
What makes this condition more severe is that symbolic systems continue to operate at full strength even when structural systems degrade. Religious identity remains powerful. Political rhetoric remains strong. Cultural symbolism remains intact. But enforcement capacity, institutional coherence, and social trust degrade beneath them. That gap is where instability grows. Until that gap is addressed at the level of structure rather than sentiment, repetition remains inevitable. New scandals will emerge, new interpretations will circulate, and new cycles of outrage will follow. Nothing resolves because nothing is being reconstructed beneath the surface of reaction.
This is no longer repairable through adjustment or rhetoric. It is a form of decay that persists until it exhausts itself, because the mechanisms meant to correct it are now part of the same failure. It continues until rupture, not reform. At that point, instability ceases to be episodic and becomes structural. Pressure will accumulate into breakdown, and what follows will not be managed transition but forced reversal. The responsibility lies with those who govern these institutions to prevent that trajectory, not through language, but through change. The drama is ending; farce is over; what we are witnessing is tragedy unfolding with unprecedented consequences.
by Nilantha Ilangamuwa
Features
Are threats to Buddha Sasana external or from within?
As Sri Lanka celebrates the birth, Enlightenment and the Parinibbana of the Buddha, almost a month after the rest of the Buddhist-world did so, there is widespread discussion about threats to Buddha Sasana provoked by some recent incidents. Regarding the views expressed about postponing Vesak celebrations in my article ‘May Day and postponement Vesak 2026’ (The Island, 25 May), my very good friend Dr Upali Abeysiri has sent me the following comments: “The Mahanayakas have a good reason to postpone Vesak. The dawning of the full moon has to be on the same constellation (nekatha) as when the Buddha was born and attained enlightenment. Although Adhi Poya is reckoned as the second full moon arising in the same calendar month, this is supposed to be an odd exception.” Though it would have been ideal if a consensus could have been reached prior to the split of celebrations, perhaps, it does not matter very much as celebrations occur on a symbolic rather than an actual date, there being no historical or archaeological evidence confirming exact dates.
Whilst there are no direct threats to Buddha Dhamma, as the expanding horizons of science continue to confirm the fundamentals of Buddha Dhamma, there is no doubt whatsoever that there are threats to Buddha Sasana. However, these threats become important as the Buddha Sasana performs the pivotal role in protecting and propagating the Dhamma and, hence, become an indirect threat to Dhamma itself. Therefore, it should be the concern of all Buddhists and it is in this spirit I am making some comments which some may interpret as disrespectful to the Maha Sangha. I can reassure that my intentions are entirely directed towards the preservation of the Buddha Dhamma and Sasana. Though the Buddha proclaimed that the Sasana consists of Bhikkhu, Bhikkhuni, Upasaka and Upasika, for all practical purposes Sasana had been led by Bhikkhus, often at the expense of others.
There is hardly any doubt that there are external forces at play in Sri Lanka and even some Buddhists seem to object to Sri Lanka being called a Buddhist country. Interestingly, no one seems to object to countries like the UK and the USA being called Christian counties. I
There is no registration or baptism in Buddhism and there are no rewards for Buddhists for conversions. As I pointed out in a previous article, ‘How does the Buddha differ’ (The Island, 1 May) unlike most other religions, Buddhism is not a ‘high-demand’ religion, nor ‘law-based’ religion and is not exclusivist. Perhaps, it is this liberalism, pacifism and gentleness, which are the real strengths, that are being exploited as weaknesses by others.
There will always be external threats and the Buddha too faced many during his lifetime. Before addressing those, is it not more important to address the threats within? One of the most important problems seems to be the breakdown of discipline. Bhikkhus are bound by Vinaya rules, laid down by the Buddha and some recent incidents highlight total deviations. Though there were many previous incidents like unsubstantiated claims of Arahanthood, Bhikkhus attacking each other on YouTube and Bhikkhus conducting YouTube channels, not for the propagation of the Dhamma but for the accumulation of rupees, attention was focused after the detection of 22 young monks carrying narcotic drugs.
Though many commentators were quick to condemn the Sangha on this account, we need to go deeper. Narcotic menace has become a huge problem in Sri Lanka and it looks as if the drug lords would resort to anything to achieve their objectives. Though it looks as if some gullible young monks had been duped by drug lords, we need to question why it was possible. Is it due to the lack of supervision of these novices by their seniors that allowed them to accept a request in a WhatsApp group? Should there be checks and balances on foreign travel by Bhikkhus?
What shocked Buddhists was what followed next; the arrest of the Nayaka of Atamasthana for allegedly having sex with a minor. Anuradhapura was our first capital and Sri Maha Bodhi is the longest surviving authenticated tree in the world. Ruwanweliseya and Jetawanaramaya were among the ten tallest man-made structures in the ancient world, Jetawanaramaya still holding the Guiness record for the largest stupa in the world. Cyberspace is full of theories. Whilst some have condemned the Nayaka Thero even before the conclusion of inquiries whilst others claim that this was a coup by another Nayaka Thera in an attempt of succession.
I was intrigued, reading in a Sri Lankan newspaper about the 80th birthday celebrations of a Nayaka priest, who was convicted in London in 2012 of historical child sex abuse and sentenced to seven years in prison. I remember the case very well as he was the head of the Vihara, we had our first contact on relocating to the UK. I also remember his devotees, who believed that he was wrongly accused, collecting over £50,000 for an appeal. In spite of being represented by one of the top Barristers in the UK, the conviction was upheld but the jail-term was reduced by a year. His name is still on the sex-offenders register in the UK and he is permanently prevented from association with children. One can argue that as he has served the sentence and not reoffended, this should not be held against him but what baffled me is that he is still being referred to as the Chief Sangha Nayaka. Should a person on the sex-offenders register be the Chief Sangha Nayaka?
It is high time we put our own house in order before fighting the external enemies. It is reported that the former president CBK has written to the Mahanayakas requesting urgent reform and we should be obliged to her for taking the lead.
There are many aspects that need urgent reform, the first being removal of caste barriers practiced by some Nikayas, which is the greatest insult to the Buddha who promoted equality. The second is the active encouragement of Bhikkhuni Sasana which has not happened in spite of the landmark ruling by the supreme court. The third is the establishment of proper disciplinary processes under a single Adhikarana Sangha Nayaka with powers and support than allowing the government to take over the control of even non-criminal Vinaya matters.
There are many other issues that need settlement like the controversy of the land of Buddha’s birth which seems to linger on. An expert committee should hear all evidence and settle this issue once and for all.
As I have pointed out on many occasions in these columns, it is high time a Dhamma Sangayana was held, as the last one was 70 years ago. Ideally, it should be different with active participation of lay experts as well. It is the duty of us Buddhists to ensure that the words of wisdom of the Buddha continue to enlighten generations to come.
By Dr Upul Wijayawardhana
Features
Vijaya Kumar: Academic, Activist & Genial Fellow-Traveller
The University of Ceylon, Peradeniya, was in our time, a less-crowded residential university, where everybody knew everybody else or at least knew of everybody else.
I knew of Emeritus Professor Vijaya Kumar of the Department of Chemistry at Peradeniya, or Kumar, as we referred to him fondly, before I got to know him. His dear wife Savitri, also a member of the academic staff of the Department of Chemistry, was nicknamed Kumee, by some of their students (of which vintage is unknown to me) and the duo were thereafter referred to affectionately as Kumar and Kumee.
The Faculty of Science became a regular haunt of mine as I would go there in the company of my batchmates to attend lectures on Basic Mathematics given by Professor Maheswaran, as it was a requirement for our General Arts Qualifying Examinations. I would also go there to listen to some excellent talks under a programme that was held in the auditorium of the Science Faculty referred to as “Popular Science Gossip”. The “gossip” at these talks were not confined solely to science but were broad enough to include Literature, History and other branches of knowledge as well. I would often spot Kumar in the audience at these talks or bump into him in the corridors of the Science Faculty. But I got to know him personally only after he became the Warden of Arunachalam, my hall of residence, during my undergraduate years initially, and later, as a member of the academic staff of the Department of English.
Our Science Faculty undergraduate contemporaries, especially those at Arunachalam Hall and its immediate neighbour, Jayatilaka Hall, both within a stone’s throw away from the Science Faculty, shared many an anecdote about Kumar and their other lecturers. One of these anecdotes, had to do with a spectacular (motor car) driving feat of Kumar’s. Legend has it that he drove from his university bungalow-home to the Faculty of Science deploying only the reverse gear of his car! Kumar, on hearing of this, had told certain of his student friends, including some who became his colleagues later on, that this story is one of the biggest yarns he had heard in his life!
Some of his one-time younger colleagues, now in retirement like Kumar, tell me that Kumar exuded warmth and friendliness in all of his professional and administrative interactions with others in the wider university community. But there was no warmth or mercy for those who indulged in the unsavoury pastime of student ‘ragging’. He was a very strong proponent of the need to ensure to all freshers an environment free of the menace of ‘ragging’. He remained ever-vigilant during the ‘ragging’ season. There are stories of his chasing ‘raggers’ and catching them. Professor Maheswaran, who later became an intimate friend and remains so after more than half a century, was another who was fiercely opposed to ‘ragging’. I was a personal witness to Mahes chasing a ‘ragger’ up and down the stairs of the main library to nab him. Yet another of his students has noted that Kumar’s office room in the Faculty was a total mess at all times. It had tables, piled so high with books and documents that one could not easily spot Kumar at his desk. He, however, had the knack of pulling out from amidst the clutter, any document that he needed at any given time. If anybody were to volunteer to help tidy his desk, Kumar would respond firmly with “Don’t you touch my desk!”.
Kumar, like several of his colleagues in the other faculties as well, had his own eccentricities. According to information received from reliable sources, Kumar who taught Organic Chemistry used to carry his lecture notes in his shirt or trouser pocket with ‘the entire lecture condensed in point form on a half-sheet or half of a half-sheet of paper’. The way he rummaged through his sling bag filled to the brim with stuff to find an item that he needed was another ritual that amused onlookers.
Kumar, interestingly enough is a Royal-cum-Thomian product, in that he had his primary education at S.Thomas’ Prep School, Kollupitiya and the entirety of his secondary education at Royal College, which he entered in 1953. In a note written by Kumar himself, he notes that despite having had excellent teachers at Royal, his was not a notable school career. He goes on to say that “the only achievement I could boast of was my being the joint-winner of the school General Knowledge Prize”. However, he had been active in a Scout Group outside of school (1st Port of Colombo, Sea Scouts) where he “was Queen’s Scout, Patrol leader, and later, Assistant Scout Master”.
Kumar entered the Faculty of Science of the University of Ceylon in 1961 and secured from it an honours degree in Chemistry in 1965. He joined the academic staff of the Department of Chemistry in the Faculty of Science, University of Ceylon, Peradeniya in 1965 and left the following year for Magdalen College at Oxford University, from which institution he obtained his doctorate in Chemistry. His entire teaching career was at Peradeniya, where in the period 2003-2006 he served as the Dean of the Faculty of Science, a position that his late father-in-law had held a few decades earlier.
Among the other highlights of his career are: Chairman of the Industrial Technology Institute (formerly the Ceylon Institute of Scientific and Industrial Research, CISIR); Member (representing Sri Lanka) of the Geneva-based UN Commission on Science and Technology from 1999 to 2007 and its President from 2001-2003; President of the Sri Lanka Estate Workers Union from 1989 onwards; Member of the Politburo of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party from 1988 to 2014 and currently, a member of the Executive Committee of the National People’s Power (NPP).
Vijaya and Savitri Kumar are parents of daughters Shamala and Ramya, who are following in the footsteps of their parents: with the former teaching in the Department of Agricultural Economics in the Faculty of Agriculture, University of Peradeniya and the latter, in the Department of Community Medicine at the University of Jaffna.
(I wish to thank the following who assisted me in the writing of this brief essay: Mr. Bandula Warnakulasuriya, Emeritus Professor Ratnayake Bandara, Professor Mahinda Wickramaratne, Professor Swarna Wimalasiri and Mr. Manik de Silva).
*Editor’s note: Prof. Vijaya Kumar, a member of the NPP’s National Executive Committee and is still active in politics turns 84 today. This article by Tissa Jayatilaka, former Executive Director of the United States – Sri Lanka Fulbright Commission for Mutual Academic Exchange, was written for an upcoming collection of essays on Kumar’s life by his friends.
(Colombo Telegraph)
By Tissa Jayatilaka
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