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Returning to source with Aga

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Aga

The last time I met Aga I had made up my mind to bring him a few things, stationery mostly, to help him along with his writing. His desk was a somewhat chaotic cluster of cardboard folders, containing loose sheets of paper on which had written his manuscripts – sometimes, a page would spill out onto the table and I worried how he could figure out what went where. At the centre of this celestial orbit were the party’s old weeklies and national congress reports, like a compass guiding his research.

Sadly, time got the better of us, and I never did get to refresh his stationary supply.

Aga Jayasena (15 February 1942–28 October 2025), was a communist as old as the Sri Lanka’s communist movement itself, being born less than a year before the founding of the Ceylon Communist Party (2–3 July 1943). He joined the party as a full-timer immediately after graduating from the University of Sri Jayewardenepura and cut his teeth organising peasants in Badulla and Monaragala. He recalled that he lacked the confidence to give his own speeches in his early days as an organiser, so would read aloud the articles from the communist daily Aththa. A lifelong learner, communicator, and educator, he soon found a place in the party’s central committee, politburo, education department, and as a national organiser.

I first saw Aga, and heard him speak, at the launch of his book on Frederick Engels. I was impressed but a little intimidated, he seemed to me quite stern and serious that day! It was only earlier this year that I picked up the courage to call him to do a series of interviews on his perspectives on the history of communist movement in Sri Lanka. My initial estimation of him was quite wrong, he was extremely warm and welcoming. Ah, Shiran! No point talking on the phone, come and meet me in person. After a few false starts, mainly due to his health, we met at his home in Pelawatte. Flipping through my notes, and listening to the recordings, I realise how unstructured these conversations were. We spoke for hours about various elements from history. But throughout, he was patient, kind, and analytical.

The following are some elements of what we discussed, including my own reflections and research based on the points he raised.

What stage are we in?

In his last days, Aga had thrown himself into the movement’s history to try and understand how the present came to be. He was busy writing his memoirs, including his reflections on the history of party, some of which were quite critical. In our discussions, he was emphatic about the efforts by founding leaders S. A. Wickramasinghe and M. G. Mendis to build the trade union and cooperative movements. The struggles in the trade union movements – especially the conflicts with A. E. Gunasinghe’s Ceylon Labour Party, which had taken a communal and collaborationist turn, during the strikes at the Wellawatte Spinning and Weaving Mills – pre-dated the founding of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party (LSSP). Similarly, when the communists were expelled from the LSSP in 1940, Wickramasinghe and his comrades first spent time building up the mass organisations – the Ceylon Trade Union Federation (CTFU) was established in 1941. The party had to come out of the movement, not the other way around.

For Aga, this was the key. He was critical, though not dismissive, of the penchant for conjuring up programmes on which to base a coalition. Having a programme was all good and well, but a programme needed to be creative and original, it had to identify the social forces that would propel the programme forward – who would be included and excluded in such a programme? In his words, a programme needed a “vehicle” – the mass organisations. He was strongly of the opinion that the communist movement needed to descend once again into the working class to rejuvenate itself and rebuild this vehicle.

Aga was also particular about the key theoretical questions. He asked: “What stage of the revolution are we in?” and “Is there a national question?” The questions were open ended, as if he knew the multiple-choice answers that lay before but was unsure which was correct in the current conjuncture. One thing was certain; more study was needed. But the movement lacked intellectuals of the calibre that once existed. And the tide of day-to-day crises and electoral compulsions pulled the movement ever forward, with scarcely a moment to pause, reflect, and evaluate.

Colombo to Cochin

Aga’s reading of the party’s beginnings in the working-class movement made him think about the role of Malayali workers in Ceylon. The CCP’s first mass base was among the Malayali workers. There were about 40,000 Malayalis in Ceylon by the 1940s, and around 2700 Malayali toddy tappers were organised by the CTFU-affiliated All-Ceylon Toddy Workers. In fact, the CCP itself was the product of a union between its predecessor the United Socialist Party, and the largely Malayali-based Ceylon Socialist Party. The first CCP constitution, adopted in 1944, specified that the flag should have the party’s name inscribed “in the Sinhalese, Tamil, Malayalam or English language as the case may be”. Similarly, the party’s first publications were quadrilingual – Forward (English), Janasakthi (Sinhala and Tamil), and Navasakthi (Malayalam). Columns in right-wing papers like Times of Ceylon used to derisively refer to the CCP as ‘Malayali comrades’.

Ceylonese communist ties to India were not limited to their organising the workers domiciled in Ceylon. The founders themselves had intimate connections with the Indian freedom movement – nurtured during periods of study in London and visits to India itself. In London, Wickramasinghe associated closely with Indian freedom fighter, and independent India’s first High Commissioner to the United Kingdom, V. K. Krishna Menon – the two organised a conference on ‘Socialism in India and Ceylon’. Wickramasinghe later travelled to India during the Meerut trial, and for a while lived alongside Sabarmati Ashram Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. Then there is Buddhist monk Udakandala Sri Saranankara Thero, who studied in Santiniketan, the residential school established by Rabindranath Tagore. In India, Saranankara Thero, learned Bengali, became involved with the Indian freedom movement, and met Subhas Chandra Bose in prison.

But as independence came, efforts turned inwards towards national construction, and contradictions arose over citizenship, borders, markets, and so on. For the communists, the main international capital became the Soviet Union, which alone had the economic strength to maintain an internationally supportive network. Thus, bilateral relationships with neighbouring fraternal parties were deprioritised compared to the relationship with the Soviet Union, which served as the movement’s Mecca.

Aga wondered why that relationship with the Indian movement, particularly in Kerala, wasn’t nurtured more by both sides. Just across the Palk Straits, and over the Western Ghats, lay Kerala, which had democratically elected communists to power in 1959 (interestingly, the dismissal of this government by Nehru, with CIA-backing, occurred just months before the assassination of S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike). There are many parallels between Kerala and Sri Lanka. At the time of independence, both were plantation economies, with an underdeveloped industrial bourgeoisie and proletariat, and a dependency on food imports. Like Sri Lanka, Kerala was one of the last places on the subcontinent for a communist party cell to be formed – E. M. S. Namboodiripad attributed this to the relative underdevelopment of Kerala’s modern industries, a conclusion that may well be applied to Sri Lanka too.

Aga’s point intrigued me. Why were there no greater exchanges between the Sri Lankan and Keralite movements? Could there not have been exchanges of cadres for political education, and mutual translation of literature and poetry? Could Sri Lankan cadres not have been sent on fact-finding missions to Kerala’s vast cooperatives networks, community libraries, and healthcare centres? These questions may seem idealistic but they are very well worth asking given the close historical, cultural, and geographical links between the two polities.

Following Aga’s lead, my research led me to an interesting figure. P. Sankar was a Malayali trade unionist and founding member of the CTFU (where he was the vice president and assistant secretary), editor the CCP’s Malayalam weekly Navasakthi, and a CCP central committee member from 1943 to 1952. Sankar returned to India in 1952 – I am not sure the circumstances but it seems likely that the Ceylonese government’s policies against Indian immigrants must have played a role. Once back in Kerala, Sankar joined the Communist Party of India and was elected to the Kerala Legislative Assembly from Chittur in 1977. He died in 1991. Did he ever stay in touch with comrades in Sri Lanka?

I don’t think Aga was being Indo-centric or an Indophile when he suggested closer relations with the Indian movement. His point was that the conditions in India were far more similar to Sri Lanka than the distant Soviet Union. He argued that Sri Lankan communist youth were eager to go and study in the Soviet Union (an arrangement that evolved into a paternalistic relationship for the party) but what they learnt could not always be easily applied to Sri Lanka. I don’t know if he felt this way about his own time at the Academy of Social Science in Moscow. The Soviet Union certainly helped produce a great many Sri Lankan bureaucrats and public servants (for example, Dr. Anil Jasinghe, the health ministry secretary who helped lead the campaign against the COVID-19 pandemic, is a product of Soviet education) but not enough revolutionaries with original thinking. Aga was making an argument rooted in Sri Lankan reality.

Cream of the Crop

One memento I have from Aga is a copy of the Draft Political Report for the Eight National Congress of the Ceylon Communist Party (20–24 August 1972). The faded copy, its pages yellowed, sits on my desk as I type this. Between 1964 and 1972, a period of eight years, there were no national congresses held. Up to then, this was perhaps the longest period without a party congress. This was especially significant because it was a turbulent and transformative few years for the party, the left movement, and the country as a whole.

In 1964, the party had split along the Sino-Soviet fissure, N. Sanmugathasan took with him much of CTFU, the editors of the Sinhala and Tamil press, the peasant front organiser, and several youth front leaders. Thought its electoral impact may have been small, it was a significant blow to the unity of the mass organisations and the ideologically committed mid-level cadre. Then in 1965, Shan’s own party split, with the young Rohana Wijeweera peeling off the youth-wing and beginning to proselytise among rural educated Sinhala youth (Aga was one of those personally approached by Wijeweera) to establish the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP).

Also in 1964, the United Left Front (ULF), consisting of the LSSP, CCP, and Philip Gunawardena’s Mahajana Eksath Peramuna, collapsed due to the LSSP breaking ranks to accept a cabinet position in the Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP) government led by Sirimavo Bandaranaike. After decades of factionalism, the ULF had been virtually compelled to form due to unprecedent united trade union action leading to the formation of the Joint Committee of Trade Union Organisations in 1963.

Reflecting on the watershed collapse of the short-lived ULF, Aga said, “people let go of us”.

The centre-right government that took power in 1965 was the first to borrow from the International Monetary Fund. There was a renewed urgency for unity among progressive forces. By 1970, the long mooted LSSP-CCP-SLFP alignment finally came to fruition, and this United Front won the elections by a landslide. But the CCP was blocked from obtaining more than one ministerial position (the Ministry of Housing and Reconstruction held by Pieter Keuneman).

Then, in 1971, came the JVP insurrection. Aga recalled the turbulent conjuncture of that time – the assassination of Che Guevara in Bolivia in 1966 and the independent Tricontinental line of Cuba, the US war on Vietnam and the killing of Buddhist monks, and the proliferation of literature by Kim Il Sung translated into Sinhala. The insurrection shook the Old Left, which was completely taken aback by the violence. The deeply ingrained notion that there were no conditions for armed struggle in Sri Lanka were challenged. “The big question was why we didn’t see this coming”, Aga said.

Aga admitted a “soft corner” for the JVP of 1971. He was of the same generation of Rohana Wijeweera (born in 14 July 1943). He spoke of that generation in an almost bittersweet and rueful tone – they were the “cream”, he said, who could have been a powerful force for social transforma

He had just returned to the country after his political education in the Soviet Union, and communist youth all around the country were in ferment. Aga spoke as if whether he ended up on side or the other was a flip of the coin. After all, like many communists of his age, he had comrades on both sides.

In 1973, the Soviet-wing of the CCP split, a faction led by Wickramasinghe crossed over to the opposition (this group included Sarath Muttetuwegama, Aththa editor H. G. S. Ratnaweera, as well as a young Aga and D. E. W. Gunasekera). A faction led by Keuneman remained with Sirimavo Bandaranaike’s government. There were a range of reasons for this split, including the disagreement with the heavy-handed way in which the government had dealt with the JVP insurgents and the use of Criminal Justice Commissions (CJC) Act, No. 14 of 1972, which allowed evidence that would have been inadmissible under the normal procedures. This crucial period intrigued Aga. Some historical accounts claim that the Soviet embassy intervened to patch up ties between the two factions in 1976. Aga intimated that this didn’t happen on equal ground – the Soviets had “closed the tap” of financial support to Wickramasinghe’s faction.

I tend to speculate that Wickramasinghe, without the support of intellectual stalwarts – like P. Kandiah (died in 1960), G. V. S. De Silva (left the party in 1959), and Sanmugathasan and Kumarasiri (who formed the Peking faction in 1964) – perhaps lacked the theoretical confidence to mount a challenge to the Soviet-Keuneman line, and felt isolated. But that is purely my speculation. It is interesting that Sanmugathasan’s Memoirs of an Unrepentant Communist (1989) expresses venom towards Keuneman, but a reverence towards Wickramasinghe. Similarly, Kumarasiri wrote in his later years that Wickramasinghe – not Philip Gunawardena, who later allied with the UNP – was the person who came closest to deserving the title ‘Father of Socialism’ in Sri Lanka. Wickramaisnghe didn’t leave behind any memoirs, so we may never truly know his story.

I think Aga was drawn to the 1972 Draft Political Report because he felt the text contained within it some of the contradictions brewing in the party since the 1960s, and especially after the 1970 coalition and 1971 insurrection. The copy I have is in English and is missing ten pages. Some passages have been marked with a pencil, but I am not sure if this was done by Aga himself, since he would have surely read the Sinhala version instead. Here is one of the marked paragraphs:

“The Party entered the United Front without fully working out the relationship between its own programme and that of the United Front. In the absence of independent campaigns for the party programme, there was a certain ideological confusion in some party ranks and also its development and continuation of diverse ideological trends. This also created confusion among the politically advanced non-party sections, leading to doubts in their minds as to the revolutionary character of the CP. The neglect of the ideological struggle also contributed to the above.”

We Have no Mechanism

My first interview with Aga was about four months into the presidency of Anura Kumar Dissanayake (AKD) and the National People’s Power (NPP) government. Aga had an open mind about the NPP when we met. That said, he maintained it was not clear which way the government would go, and if and how the government would break from the neoliberal framework. He acknowledged that there had been a series of missed opportunities for détente between the JVP and the Communist Party of Sri Lanka over the last decade – most notably, during the joint-struggle to prevent the privatisation of Colombo Port’s East Container Terminal.

Aga understood the NPP’s decision to continue with the IMF programme, and felt it wise for the NPP to not rock the boat too much. Not because he endorsed the IMF programme but because he must have felt that the balance of power was strongly tilted in favour of the bondholders and local merchant capitalists, who could make the economy scream by withholding foreign currency, hoarding commodities, downgrading credit ratings, and so on.

He was also sympathetic to the fact that the NPP was walking into a collapsed state machinery. His choice of words, in Sinhala, still echoes in my mind – “අපිට යාන්ත්‍රණයක් නැහැ”, we have no mechanism. He felt the NPP’s first budget, constrained by the IMF’s conditions, was unable to satisfy any specific sector, but he was appreciative of the allocations towards the estate sector and the north and east. In general, he was appreciative of the NPP’s electoral gains in the north, but was critical of their lack of clarity on solving the national question. He felt that the provision of economic services and infrastructure alone would not be enough to sidestep the political question.

Aga was clearly in a nostalgic mood the times I met him. His mind kept drifting back to the fighters from history, many of whom did not leave behind any memoirs and who are not memorialised by those who remain. He wondered why his generation (the second generation of communists) never thought to sit and interview the first generation at length before they died. Tears came to his eyes as he spoke of A. Vaidialingam, one of the founders of the CCP, who few speak of today. “Vaidialingam was to the north, what Wickramasinghe was to the south”, Aga said. With Aga’s passing, that lineage is almost broken – so much of our movement’s history remains unwritten.

The last message I have from Aga is a voice note in appreciation of a talk I gave on the Bandung Spirit at the Bandaranaike Centre for International Studies earlier this year. In our interviews, he was often pensive and introspective, so it is nice to have a recording of his voice sounding so animated.

Aga’s passing strikes us just two months ahead of the 90th anniversary of the founding of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party – the beginning of the socialist movement in Sri Lanka. I hope that, like Aga, others in the left will take the time to reflect upon the past 90 years of struggle and write these histories. Not just to bask in the glories of the past, but to regain a sense of self, a confidence in our ideas and original aspirations, and a grounding to forge a way ahead.

(Shiran Illanperuma is a researcher at Tricontinental: Institute for Social Research and a co-editor of Wenhua Zongheng: A Journal of Contemporary Chinese Thought. He is a co-convenor of the Asia Progress Forum).

by Shiran Illanperuma



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Opinion

Ranasighe Premadasa: Man of the Masses

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Premadasa

I was struck by the article written by MDD Pieris in The Sunday Island, under the title, “Free school uniform decision taken in minutes on a platform in Bakamuna” by President Premadasa. I am penning this piece as a tribute to this remarkable visionary in social development and grassroots economic policy, who was tragically assassinated by an LTTE suicide bomber in Colombo exactly 33 years ago.

The term of Sri Lanka’s first Executive President, J. R. Jayewardene (JRJ), was ending in 1989. As the constitution required, JRJ decided to call a presidential election. After some uncertainty within the United National Party (UNP) about who should be the next candidate, then-Party Chairman Ranjan Wijeratne and JRJ’s security advisor Ravi Jayewardene (JRJ’s only son) thought the best candidate was Prime Minister Ranasinghe Premadasa. They realised that the country was moving from elite-centred, Colombo-focused politics toward a more populist, grassroots and security-dominated phase.

They advised the President JRJ and party stalwarts accordingly.

At a UNP Parliamentary Group and Working Committee meeting, J. R. Jayewardene proposed Premadasa’s name. To maintain party unity and avoid an internal contest, he also arranged for Premadasa’s main political rivals from the UNP, Lalith Athulathmudali and Gamini Dissanayake, to second the nomination. This move made Premadasa the unanimous party choice.

Premadasa played a key role in the UNP’s landslide victory in the 1977 parliamentary election, boosting its grassroots membership through his “Man of the Masses” image. He was then appointed deputy leader of the party.

The second Presidential Election took place on December 19, 1988, amid severe unrest. The Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP) called for a boycott and staged a violent protest in the south.

Despite a low voter turnout and violence, the election went ahead, and Premadasa won a clear majority of valid votes, defeating main opposition candidate Sirimavo Bandaranaike from the SLFP. Ranasinghe Premadasa was sworn in on January 2, 1989, as Sri Lanka’s second executive president.

Premadasa was a strong nationalist who campaigned for the withdrawal of the Indian Peace Keeping Force (IPKF), whose presence was unpopular among the Sinhalese majority. He saw the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), actively fighting the IPKF, as a potential ally in this effort.

His predecessor JRJ did argue that the Tamil issue was a very ancient problem and therefore external mediation might be necessary, which partly explains why he accepted Indian involvement leading to the 1987 accord.

In a pointed critique of India, Premadasa believed that the ethnic conflict could be resolved internally without foreign intervention.

He invited the LTTE and the JVP for talks as part of a strategy to end the prevailing dual insurrections, bring the groups into the democratic process, and secure the withdrawal of the IPKF from Sri Lanka. The LTTE accepted the offer and sent a delegation to Colombo for talks.

The LTTE delegation was transported by helicopter from the Mullaitivu jungles to Colombo. Premadasa arranged for LTTE ideologue Anton Balasingham and his wife, Adele, to fly to Colombo from London via Air Lanka at government expense. The LTTE team was provided with tight security managed by the Special Task Force (STF). During their stay in Colombo, LTTE cadres were permitted to retain their personal weapons as part of the security arrangements.

During the Premadasa–LTTE talks, the LTTE visited the homes of key traditional Tamil democratic leaders, such as A. Amirthalingam and V. Yogeswaran, for discussion and assassinated them, effectively destroying moderate Tamil parliamentary politics.

Both the JVP and Premadasa were opposed to the Indo-Lanka Accord and the IPKF presence, which provided a shared point of interest. He called an All Party Conference (APC) to resolve the problem through dialogue. JVP, however, refused to attend this conference. He then launched a brutal crackdown on the JVP using extreme counter-insurgency methods under the direct supervision of State Minister for Defence General Ranjan Wijeratne.

A period remembered for severe human-rights abuses and some opposition members even took the matter to the UN Commission on Human Rights. The crackdown ended with JVP leader Rohana Wijeweera being killed.

At the request of the President Premadasa, India withdrew the IPKF between September 1989 and March 1990.

Rural Unemployment and 200 Garment Factory Programme

Premadasa was from a humble, urban, working-class background, rose through grassroots politics in Colombo and had a better understanding of the grievances and aspirations of people of rural areas compared to JRJ. He knew the main problem was the unemployment of rural youth. He also knew that developing agriculture alone would not help solve this problem. He therefore decided to take industries to rural areas and embarked on the famous 200 garment factory programme.

He logically explained what his objective was when a prominent university professor of the time asked him what he was aiming to achieve through the programme.

He said one of the main problems Sri Lanka faced was rural unemployment, especially among the youth. Unless this issue was addressed, there would be no meaningful development in the country, as these youths would become pawns of political activists.

He identified unemployment as the root cause of political violence. Therefore, he wanted industrialisation to reach rural areas.

But he said there are obstacles. Sri Lanka, being an agriculture-based country, has most people not used to “industrial discipline.” It had been largely an Agricultural, Public-sector oriented and Plantation-based economy and society since colonial era and even after independence. The majority Sinhalese are accustomed to an easy life working in the paddy fields and practing Chena cultivation for thousands of years.

A common feature of the few factories established since Independence, both public and private, was the high absenteeism during the paddy harvesting periods, which left the management in a precarious situation.

Many rural youths had never worked in a factory environment with fixed working hours, meeting production targets, strict quality control and assembly-line work.

Without industrial discipline among the rural folks, no investor would risk his money setting up factories in rural areas. Some rural girls working in the Katunayake FTZ faced significant problems. They face isolation and lack of support, sexual risks and exploitation, language barriers, and more. When they work in a factory close to their homes, most of these issues could be resolved, Premadasa said.

On the other hand, garment manufacturing isn’t too complicated technology-wise. So, it was easy to train mechanics in preventive and break-down maintenance and operators in operational aspects.

He also knew it would help integrate rural areas into the export economy, and into a global value chain (GVC) moving beyond traditional free trade zones like Katunayake and Biyagama.

World Textile and Apparel (T&A) production went through three main phases, mostly based on production costs. First, in the 1970s in Hong Kong, Singapore, the Republic of Korea, and Taiwan, and during 1985-1990, they (Factory owners) reduced production and moved operations to the Philippines, Indonesia, Thailand, and Malaysia. The third phase involved shifting to countries like Bangladesh, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Laos, Nepal, and Vietnam during the early 1990s. Premadasa aimed to take advantage of this trend.

His target was to create about 100,000 jobs, with factories typically employing at least 500 workers and giving employment opportunities in rural areas. Preference was deliberately given to economically disadvantaged families, helping spread incomes beyond urban centres.

Structural changes initiated to facilitate 200 garment factory programme

The Greater Colombo Economic Commission (GCEC), established in 1978 under JRJ, was originally created to manage Free Trade Zones (FTZs) like Katunayake and attract export-oriented foreign direct investment (FDI) into specific zones.

Premadasa transformed the GCEC into a national-level investment facilitator and renamed it the Board of Investment of Sri Lanka (BOI). It was more of a functional transformation and expansion of the GCEC role. With BOI, he established a centralised decision-making structure to expedite project approvals and reduce bureaucracy.

BOI effectively served as a “one-stop shop”, which was crucial because garment investors required speed and predictability.

President Premadasa Meeting the Potential Investors

\Working out the strategy with his handpicked officials, President Premadasa convened a meeting of potential investors at BMICH. The first meeting played a key role in launching the garment factory programme and demonstrated his hands-on, interventionist approach to economic development.

There were many would-be investors, mainly locals and entrepreneurs from countries like South Korea, Singapore and other Newly Industrialised Countries (NICs).

Premadasa personally addressed attendees and explained his vision of moving investment into rural districts. He said there are tax holidays on offer (the length varies by location, especially for rural/”difficult” areas), duty-free import of machinery and raw materials would be allowed, and guaranteed access to U.S. garment quotas under the Multi-Fibre Arrangement (MFA). The quotas would be allocated based on location: 10,000 dozen for non-difficult areas, 25,000 dozen for difficult areas and 50,000 dozen for the most difficult areas.\

He also said land, electricity, water, roads, and telecommunication would be provided by the state through the Board of Investment (BOI), the government agency responsible for promoting and facilitating investment. On the finance side permission to open foreign currency accounts would be allowed, and access to loans (including foreign currency banking units) would be available.

Premadasa requested investors to set up their factories to employ around 500 workers per factory and prioritise recruitment from low-income rural families. He also requested to provide meals (or subsidised food) to workers. It was however not a formal legal requirement written into BOI agreements.

He also offered duty-free import of a luxury vehicle (e.g., Benz car) after project completion.

Premadasa then concluded the meeting, assuring them that he will meet in a month or so to assess the progress.

At the progress review meeting held at the same venue, Premadasa asked if anyone had problems. About 10% of the attendees raised their hands, and the president asked them to move to the side. Then he said, “I will work with those who don’t have problems,” and asked the others to leave the chamber. This was how Premadasa achieved his goals.

Opening of factories under the programme

Premadasa personally supervised the progress of the programme. All initial problems reported to him by investors through his officials were quickly resolved.

He often had a clock tower built near many factories opened under the “200 Garment Factories Programme.” He believed that factory workers—mostly young people who had previously worked in agriculture or informal jobs—needed to adapt to strict working hours and punctuality. The clock tower served as a visible public timekeeper for workers and the surrounding community and it symbolized the transition from a village lifestyle to an industrial work culture.

Although Sri Lankan youth initially lacked technical skills and industrial discipline, they were able to assimilate into the garment industry relatively quickly because training requirements were short, production systems simplified tasks and strong factory training programs were introduced with the public institutions like Sri Lanka Institute of Textile & Apparel (SLITA). Above all literacy levels among the Sri Lankan youths were high.

This adaptability is one reason why Sri Lanka became a major garment exporter in the 1990s.

He attended numerous factory opening ceremonies from the late 1980s to the early 1990s, especially in less underdeveloped areas like Matale, Polonnaruwa, and Monaragala. Some factories launched under this programme have now grown into large conglomerates with factories in many other countries.

Success of the garment factory programme The 200 Garment Factories Programme played a pivotal role in transforming Sri Lanka into a global hub for apparel manufacturing, while also introducing modern industrial employment to rural districts for the first time.

Today, the garment industry continues to be Sri Lanka’s largest export sector, underscoring the lasting impact of this initiative.

J.R. Jayewardene’s modernisation strategy

It was JRJ who attempted to modernise Sri Lanka after coming to power.

Although JRJ’s government (1977–1989) achieved many successes in modernising the country, leading to economic development and improved living standards through major economic liberalisation and constitutional changes, it also faced numerous failures.

The benefits of the open economy concentrated in urban and Western Province areas. Expansion of the private sector and open economy did not absorb educated youth from rural areas. As a result, there was a huge mismatch between the education system and job market contributing to youth frustration and radicalisation, especially in the south.

Premadasa, after coming to power as Executive President of Sri Lanka, attempted to correct many weaknesses under the previous president, while taking forward the “Modernisation Programme” launched by him. Through “200 Garment Factories Programme” he attempted to take “National Development” to rural areas.

Another area he attempted to rectify was the recruitment process in public employment, which was often based on political patronage and arbitrary appointments made based on party loyalty. He directed that vacancies—particularly for non-technical jobs in the public service and state institutions—be filled through competitive written examinations and interviews, rather than ministerial recommendations.

Unfortunately, Premadasa’s main failure was underestimating the LTTE’s long-term goals. He only sought a political opening with the LTTE, mainly to achieve one objective: the withdrawal of the IPKF. Although he succeeded, the LTTE quickly turned against the government and launched the Second Elam War in June 1990 after attacking police and military targets.

Premadasa was assassinated in an LTTE suicide bomber attack in Colombo exactly 33 years ago.

The LTTE continued its insurgency until its defeat in 2009.

by Rohan Abeygunawardena
abeyrohan@gmail.com)

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Opinion

The pointer who showed the moon: Professor Y. Karunadasa (1934–2026)

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Prof. Karunadasa

On 27 April 2026, Sri Lanka lost a quiet giant. Professor Y. Karunadasa, one of the world’s foremost scholars of Abhidhamma and Buddhist philosophy, passed away in Colombo. He was 92.

For those who never sat in his classroom, the name might sound distant. But for anyone who has ever wondered what the Buddha really meant by anatta (no‑self) or sabhāva (intrinsic nature), Karunadasa’s work was a lantern in the dark. He did not write to impress other academics. He wrote to make the Dhamma clear.

Born in 1934, he graduated with First Class Honours in Pali from the University of Ceylon in 1958. A decade later, his PhD thesis from the University of London became his landmark book, The Buddhist Analysis of Matter. One reviewer called it “the final word on the subject for many years to come.” He later served as Dean of Arts at the University of Kelaniya and founded its Postgraduate Institute of Pali and Buddhist Studies. The nation honoured him with Sri Lanka Sikhamani in 2005.

Yet his true gift was teaching. He once said he loved students who knew nothing about Buddhism. “It’s more adventurous,” he explained. “For those already exposed, it’s not so fascinating. In a way, it’s easier because they carry no prejudices.” He taught at SOAS, Toronto, Calgary, and Hong Kong, but he always returned to Sri Lanka – because, he said, “the Dhamma lives best where the language of the texts is still spoken.”

What exactly made his scholarship so special? Before Karunadasa, Western, and even some Asian scholars, often dismissed Abhidhamma as dry scholasticism – a medieval invention far from the Buddha’s original words. Karunadasa spent four decades proving otherwise. He showed that Abhidhamma is not a later corruption but a natural extension of the early suttas. His analysis of sabhāva (intrinsic nature) was revolutionary: he demonstrated that the Abhidhamma schools never posited eternal substances, only conditioned, momentary realities. In doing so, he rescued the entire Abhidhamma tradition from the charge of being “proto‑Hindu” or essentialist. Philosophers in London and Chicago began citing him alongside Western phenomenologists. Yet he never lost his Sri Lankan accent or his habit of drinking plain black tea while discussing citta and cetasika.

His most profound contribution was to Abhidhamma, the analytical heart of the Buddha’s teaching. Western scholars often dismissed Abhidhamma as dry scholasticism. Karunadasa showed it was a living philosophy of mind and matter, free from eternalism and nihilism. He argued that the Buddha’s refusal to posit a permanent self was not a mere negation but an invitation to see reality as a process – a stream of conditioned moments, luminous and awake.

What made him rare was his humility. He never claimed to be a meditation master or a saint. He was a reader of texts, a lover of words, a man who believed that truth shines brightest when pointed at, not possessed. “I present what I find,” he said. “Whether one decides to accept it is an individual matter.”

I recall a small story that students often told. Once, a young monk asked him after a lecture, “Venerable Professor, after all this analysis, does the self exist or not?” Karunadasa smiled. “That question,” he said, “is like asking whether the flame in this oil lamp is the same as the flame a moment ago. The Buddha’s answer is neither ‘yes’ nor ‘no’ but ‘it is not proper to say so.’ Learn to live with the question, and you will be freer than any philosopher who claims to have an answer.”

Students remember him not for grand speeches but for small kindnesses – a patient explanation of a Pali compound, a gentle nod when a young scholar stammered through a seminar. He never raised his voice. He never needed to.

The Buddha once said that the Dhamma is like a finger pointing to the moon. Do not stare at the finger, he warned. Professor Karunadasa spent a lifetime perfecting that finger – polishing it, straightening it, making sure it pointed true. We may now look at the moon and remember the hand that showed us where to turn.

May his passing be his final lesson: that even the greatest scholar must one day let go. And in that letting go, become the silence from which all teaching first arose.

May he attain the supreme bliss of Nibbana!

Dedicated to the memory of a teacher who never stopped learning.

K.L. Senarath Dayathilake

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Opinion

Fiscal discipline, institutional accountability, and contemporary governance challenges

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Central Bank of Sri Lanka / Ministry of Finance

Sri Lanka is currently facing a complex set of interrelated economic, social, and governance challenges that cannot be attributed to a single policy failure or institutional weakness. Rather, these challenges reflect deeper structural issues that have evolved over time and now manifest as systemic constraints on economic stability and effective governance.

The key issues at the centre the current debate include fiscal discipline, the role of the Central Bank and the Ministry of Finance, governance challenges, the experience of public administration, and the capacity for effective policy implementation.

This short paper aims to lay the foundation for this discussion by initiating a focused and structured dialogue on these critical issues.

Fiscal Discipline: Current Status and Core Challenges

Fiscal discipline refers to the government’s ability to maintain a balance between its revenue and expenditure. It is a fundamental requirement for macroeconomic stability. However, an assessment of Sri Lanka’s current situation indicates that this balance remains significantly weakened.

Over the past three decades, government revenue as a share of GDP has steadily declined. From approximately 18–20 percent in the 1990s, it fell to nearly 9 percent in the early 2020s. While recent tax reforms have contributed to a gradual recovery, government expenditure has remained persistently high at around 20–25 percent of GDP. This imbalance has resulted in sustained budget deficits and a significant accumulation of public debt.

Within this context, constrained revenue growth and structural weaknesses in expenditure management have emerged as key factors shaping the country’s long-term fiscal outlook.

In 2024, tax revenue increased to 12.4 percent of GDP, up from 9.9 percent in 2023, and is projected to reach 14.8 percent in 2025. While this reflects a positive trend, it remains insufficient to ensure fiscal sustainability.

Expanding the tax base, strengthening tax compliance, and rationalising tax exemptions remain critical priorities. However, these efforts are constrained by structural factors, including the large size of the informal economy, weak income reporting mechanisms, and low levels of formalsation among small and medium-sized enterprises.

In addition, the heavy reliance on indirect taxation represents a structural imbalance. Currently, around 70–75 percent of total tax revenue is derived from indirect taxes, while direct taxes account for only about 25–30 percent. Among these, Value Added Tax (VAT) contributes a disproportionately large share, whereas income and corporate taxes remain relatively limited. Such a structure has implications not only for revenue stability but also for income distribution.

Tax administration continues to face operational challenges, including limited administrative capacity, technological constraints, weak enforcement, and persistent issues of tax evasion and avoidance.

Therefore, despite recent improvements in revenue performance, deeper structural reforms in the tax system are essential—particularly increasing the share of direct taxation and broadening the overall tax base.

The expenditure side presents equally significant challenges. According to the 2025 budget, government expenditure is estimated at around 21.8 percent of GDP, while revenue stands at approximately 15.1 percent. This reflects a substantial and persistent fiscal gap, the closure of which requires difficult and often politically sensitive policy choices, including borrowing, revenue enhancement, or expenditure rationalisation.

A particularly pressing concern is debt servicing. According to the World Bank, nearly half of government revenue between 2024 and 2027 may be absorbed by interest payments. This represents a significant fiscal risk. If a large share of public revenue is allocated to debt servicing, the fiscal space available for education, healthcare, social protection, and productive investment becomes severely constrained.

Public debt management therefore remains highly vulnerable. Although debt restructuring efforts have been undertaken, their long-term success depends critically on sustained fiscal discipline. Without this, debt sustainability risks re-emerging as a major macroeconomic concern.

The financial performance of state-owned enterprises further compounds these challenges. In 2024, 52 major state institutions reported combined losses exceeding LKR 150 billion. Key entities such as the Ceylon Electricity Board, Ceylon Petroleum Corporation, SriLankan Airlines, and the Sri Lanka Transport Board continue to exert pressure on public finances. Notably, in the first half of 2025 alone, the Ceylon Electricity Board recorded a loss of LKR 13.2 billion.

Taken together, the challenge of fiscal discipline is not isolated. It reflects a broader structural imbalance arising from weak revenue performance, ineffective expenditure control, high debt burdens, rising debt servicing obligations, and persistent losses in state-owned enterprises.

Accordingly, addressing these challenges requires more than incremental adjustments. It calls for a comprehensive and sustained restructuring of public financial management to restore long-term fiscal stability.

The Central Bank and the Ministry of Finance: Roles and Performance

Against this fiscal backdrop, the role and effectiveness of key economic institutions become critically important. The Central Bank and the Ministry of Finance are the two principal institutions responsible for macroeconomic management in Sri Lanka. The Central Bank is tasked with maintaining price stability and financial system stability through monetary policy, while the Ministry of Finance is responsible for the design and implementation of fiscal policy.

In recent years, the Central Bank has adopted a tight monetary policy stance to contain inflation. This represents a necessary and positive adjustment. However, a key concern lies in the clarity, consistency, and credibility of policy communication. When markets, investors, and the public do not receive clear and predictable signals regarding the future direction of policy, an uncertain environment emerges. Under such conditions, investment decisions are often delayed, market volatility increases, and overall economic confidence weakens.

With regard to the Ministry of Finance, the central issue is the gap between policy intent and effective implementation. While targets have been set to increase tax revenue, progress in broadening the tax base and strengthening compliance remains limited. This reflects not only technical challenges but also deeper institutional constraints.

Another critical area is the reform of state-owned enterprises. Although policy intentions and reform frameworks have been articulated, implementation has been slow and uneven. This delay imposes an additional burden on fiscal discipline, as continued losses in these institutions ultimately translate into increased public expenditure and fiscal pressure.

At the same time, the International Monetary Fund has emphasised, particularly in the context of the 2026 budget, the need for stronger revenue mobilization, disciplined expenditure management, improved tax compliance, and enhanced public financial management. These recommendations reinforce the urgency of institutional strengthening.

It would be overly simplistic to conclude that these institutions have entirely failed in their mandates. However, it is evident that they have not yet achieved the expected levels of efficiency, coordination, and transparency required under current economic conditions.

A key structural weakness lies in the limited coordination between monetary and fiscal policy. When these two policy domains are not aligned, their outcomes can be mutually undermining. For example, while the Central Bank may pursue tight monetary policy to control inflation, expansionary fiscal policies or excessive government spending can offset these efforts.

Going forward, strengthening institutional effectiveness requires more than clarifying mandates. It demands improved policy coordination, stronger implementation capacity, and more transparent and credible communication. These elements are essential to restoring confidence among markets, investors, and the public.

Governance Challenges and the Experience Gap: Reality and Limits

Beyond institutional performance, governance capacity itself remains a central concern. One of the most prominent criticisms directed at the current administration is the perceived lack of experience in public governance. This concern cannot be entirely dismissed. A governing team with limited experience may face significant challenges in managing the complexity of the state apparatus, fiscal risks, international commitments, and institutional processes.

However, it is insufficient to interpret this issue solely as an individual limitation. It must also be understood as a systemic challenge. In the presence of a strong advisory framework, data-driven decision-making processes, and effective coordination within a professional public service, the impact of limited experience can be mitigated to a considerable extent.

Conversely, when such institutional mechanisms are weak, the absence of experience can have more pronounced consequences. These may include delays in decision-making, misalignment of policy priorities, and increased policy instability. In such an environment, governance becomes more uncertain, and institutional trust tends to erode.

Therefore, the issue cannot be adequately captured by simply referring to a “lack of experience.” The more fundamental challenge lies in the interaction between limited experience, institutional weaknesses, and deficiencies in decision-making frameworks.

This perspective is reinforced by an observation shared in response to this discussion:

“The appointment of underqualified individuals and political appointees to senior positions in the Treasury and the Ministry of Finance can significantly contribute to such challenges. In the past, many of these roles were held by experienced senior public servants and capable economists, who possessed a deep understanding of public financial policy and governance.

It is not sufficient to characterise such issues merely as a ‘cyber incident.’ They should also be understood as manifestations of deeper systemic gaps. Accordingly, the government must identify and decisively address these gaps. However, there is limited evidence of such preparedness at present.”

This view underscores the need to assess governance challenges not only at the level of individuals, but also at the institutional and systemic levels.

Accordingly, a sustainable long-term response requires strengthening professionalism within the public sector, ensuring greater transparency and meritocracy in appointments, and institutionalizing more structured and evidence-based decision-making processes.

Priority Reforms for Immediate Action

Addressing the challenges outlined above requires a set of coordinated and decisive reforms. These actions are not optional; they are essential to restoring fiscal stability and rebuilding public confidence.

First, public expenditure must be realigned based on clear strategic priorities. Resources should be redirected away from politically popular but low-impact spending toward areas that support economic growth, strengthen human capital, and enhance social protection.

Second, the tax system must be simplified, made more equitable, and significantly broadened. Rather than increasing the burden on a narrow base of existing taxpayers, policy efforts should focus on expanding the tax base, strengthening compliance, and improving the efficiency of tax administration.

Third, reforms of state-owned enterprises must be accelerated without delay. The continued reliance on public funds to sustain loss-making institutions is fiscally unsustainable. Comprehensive restructuring is required, including improvements in governance, pricing mechanisms, operational efficiency, and accountability frameworks.

Fourth, transparency must be strengthened as a core principle of public financial management. Timely and credible disclosure of fiscal data—including debt positions, the financial performance of state-owned enterprises, and progress on reform implementation—is essential to building trust and ensuring accountability.

Finally, accountability mechanisms must be reinforced. Clear responsibility must be assigned for policy decisions, and outcomes must be systematically monitored and evaluated. Sustainable improvements in governance depend on the consistent application of accountability.

In conclusion, Sri Lanka’s current economic and governance challenges cannot be attributed to a single cause. They reflect a broader systemic imbalance arising from weak fiscal discipline, institutional limitations, communication gaps, shortcomings in policy implementation, and constraints in governance capacity.

An economy is not merely a collection of numbers; it is fundamentally a system built on trust. Rebuilding that trust is not optional—it is essential. It requires immediate and credible action to strengthen fiscal discipline, institutional accountability, transparency, and policy consistency.

This remains the defining challenge facing the current administration.

by Prof. Ranjith Bandara

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