Features
Ridi Vihare: A temple and a book
Ridi Vihare: The Flowering of Kandyan Art
Dr. SinhaRaja Tammita-Delgoda
Stamford Lake Publications, 2006, pp. 210, Rs 3,750
Reviewed
by Uditha Devapriya
This is a fascinating study of one of the more fascinating Buddhist temples of Sri Lanka, authored by one of our foremost historians. The Ridi Vihare, or the ‘Silver Temple’, traces its history to the second century BC. It occupied a prominent place until the 14th century AD, when it disappeared from view. Three hundred years later, during the time of the Nayakkar kings of Kandy, it regained that position. What Dr. SinhaRaja Tammita-Delgoda attempts in his book is to explore its history and its art, viewing them not in isolation but in unison. The result is a superb work of scholarship, at once edifying and accessible.
Though written 15 years ago, before even the civil war ended, the scope and breadth of ‘Ridi Vihare: The Flowering of Kandyan Art’ resonates well even today. Partly, that is because Sri Lanka’s Buddhist temples have never become the object of study that religious institutions elsewhere have. This is certainly an unfortunate omission, a glaring one.
While the Sangha has been studied as an institution, most discernibly by Leslie Gunawardana, very few have tried to understand the social history of Buddhist temples. It is to the likes of Senake Bandaranayake that we owe our understanding of this aspect of our culture. The finest historian of art to come out of the country, Dr. Bandaranayake authored the finest work of scholarship on Buddhist art. Yet while ‘The Rock and Wall Paintings of Sri Lanka’ remains essential reading, it is a testament to where we are now and how we regard our past that since its publication, no comparable effort has come out.
Sinhala historians frequently do write monographs on these institutions, and many of them are available for cheap and even free, often at the very places their monographs are about. Yet while such efforts are laudable, they are hardly enough. To highlight the uniqueness of these places, it is necessary to dig deeper, to go beyond essays, to put the Buddhist temple of Sri Lanka in its proper historical context. Such an undertaking requires time and money, a sense of purpose, an overwhelming desire to probe.
It is that purpose and desire which colours Dr. Tammita-Delgoda’s outstanding work. It stands out not so much as a scholarly foray as a labour of love, an exploration into our past, who we are, and what we make of ourselves. Interspersed with photographs, diagrams, and illustrations, all painstakingly taken and meticulously captioned, the book doesn’t just focus on the temple, it uses it as the base from which to explore everything around it. As Dr. Siran Deraniyagala informs us in the introduction, Ridi Vihare offers no less than “a microcosm of Sri Lanka’s turbulent past.” This is a point the author engages with constantly.
How the book came about is as interesting as what it contains. Due to the high position it occupied in late mediaeval Sri Lanka, Ridi Vihare forged ties with Malwathu Maha Viharaya, one of the two Buddhist monastic chapters within the Siam Nikaya. Over the last 250 years, three of the Chief Incumbents of Ridi Vihare have wound up as Chief Prelates of Malwatta.
It was one of these Chief Prelates, Thibbotuwawe Sri Siddhartha Sumangala Thera, who took over the task of teaching “the religion, the philosophy and the customs of the Sinhalese” to the author. After his stint ended, Sumangala Thera requested his erstwhile student to write about the temple he was serving and officiating at the time. It was as a result of his request, and the author’s only too eager response, that this book came about.
Writing the book was not easy. Having begun in 1998, Dr. Tammita-Delgoda had to stop mid-way. The main problem was funding; not so much for travel or research as for photography. Desperately in need of money, and with no one to get it from, the entire project had to be stalled for several years. It was picked up again only through the intervention of a much loved icon: Sri Lanka’s most celebrated photographer, Nihal Fernando, who agreed to undertake its photography through his outfit, Studio Times, at no cost.
Thanks to Fernando’s support and the assistance of friends, patrons, and well-wishers, Dr. Tammita-Delgoda found himself digging deep into the history of the land. Having planned it as the story of a temple, his project soon became so much more.
The history of Ridi Vihare begins with “the greatest king of Anuradhapura”, Dutugemunu, in the second century BC. The Mahavamsa records Dutugemunu as the first of the Sinhalese kings who unified the country. Having achieved this task, he embarked on the construction of stupas, the last of which, the Mahathupa, became a huge undertaking. It was in reply to his prayer, that money be found for the Mahathupa, that silver was found at a cave called Ambattakola in Kurunegala. As a token of gratitude, Dutugemunu had a temple built by a jackfruit tree near that cave. It is here that the Varaka Velandhu Vihare, the oldest and perhaps most important establishment at Ridi Vihare, stands today.

As with all such institutions, the temple amply reflected its times. By the time of the Polonnaruwa kingdom, South Indian influences began making their way to the Ridi Vihare. We are told that a Hindu devale was constructed within the courtyard somewhere after the 12th Century. Though popular writers portray this as a period of decay and destruction, it was also a period of cultural fusion. Ridi Vihare did not escape such influences, in spite of the impoverished conditions of these years. It remained a centrepiece of the kingdom well into the 14th Century, though once the capital of the Sinhalese polity shifted from Wayamba to Kotte to Kanda Uda Rata it fell into much decay, decline, and disrepair.
The next chapter of Ridi Vihare unfolds at the time of the Kandyan kings, specifically the Nayakkars and particularly the reign of the second of them, Kirti Sri Rajasinghe. An ardent, passionate patron of Buddhism, Rajasinghe oversaw a period of renaissance marked by the resumption of the ordination of monks, a practice that had fallen into neglect for centuries. We are told of the political conditions prevalent at the time, the ambiguities that dotted the Nayakkars’ rule over an eminently Buddhist realm, and the rebellions against them aided by none less than the leading revivalist of his time, Weliwita Sri Saranankara Thera.
In the course of his reign Kirti Sri Rajasinghe brought Buddhist monasteries under the sway of Malwatta and Asgiriya. This had a profound impact on not just Ridi Vihare, but also the Sangha. It had much to do with the personality of the king himself.
As an outsider looking in, Rajasinghe had to show that he was the true heir to his Sinhalese predecessors. Though Leslie Gunawardana and Gananath Obeyesekere have suggested that opposition to Nayakkar rule was not as prevalent as popular writers make it out to be, there was opposition, and it was considerable. His motives were constantly under scrutiny by the radala aristocracy and clergy, and he needed to prove himself worthy in their eyes. To let go and belittle their concerns was to invite disenchantment and dissent.
It was against this backdrop that Kirti Sri Rajasinghe pursued a policy of detente and then confrontation with Dutch governors, while sponsoring efforts at purifying the Sangha and expelling foreign elements within his kingdom who had been indulged by his predecessors. Spilling over to the religious institutions of his realm, these efforts transformed Ridi Vihare into a leading centre of learning and study, in particular under Thibbotuwawe Sri Siddhartha Buddharakkitha Thera, the closest disciple of Weliwita Sri Saranankara Thera.
Partly due to his upcountry ancestry, Dr. Tammita-Delgoda is at his best in these chapters, when he is charting the social and artistic history of the last Sinhalese kingdom. Having read and researched his sources well, he goes beyond them, conjecturing about the reputation Ridi Vihare would have enjoyed under Buddharakkitha. He takes pains to emphasise that though Kandy was at war with the Dutch, this did not preclude contact between officials and Buddhist monks, a point that shows well in the Delft tiles at the Maha Vihara of Ridi Vihare. Long thought to be a gift from the Dutch Governor to the Vihare’s Chief Incumbent, these objects shed light on the nature of relations between Kandy and Holland.
From historicising Ridi Vihare, Dr. Tammita-Delgoda goes on to deconstruct its topography, periodising its construction from the pre-Christian era to the 20th Century. He then delves into the paintings and sculptures at the temple. With more than a connoisseur’s eye for the elegant and the sublime, he expresses much distaste for contemporary efforts at repairing the site, particularly the “hideous” restored vahalkada at its entrance. In exploring the inner courtyards and sanctums, he also attempts to reconstruct life as it would have been back in the day, especially through the use of archive images and illustrations.
There is clearly an art historian lurking beneath the historian, and in the chapters on the art and sculpture of Ridi Vihare Dr. Tammita-Delgoda lets him out. Not surprisingly, these make up some of the best forays into Kandyan art and architecture I have read.
Colonial officials and scholars often painted Kandy as a period of cultural decay, a pale reflection of the classical art that once prevailed in Anuradhapura and Polonnaruwa. Such generalisations were questioned, rightly, by the likes of Dr. Senake Bandaranayake and Siri Gunasinghe. Dr. Tammita-Delgoda continues their line of critique, unearthing Kandyan art for what it is and not for what it is often imagined to be. Its aim, he observes, was to appeal to devotees, not conform to European rules of perspective and representation.
Because of these insights, the sections on the paintings and sculptures of Ridi Vihare are the most edifying in the book. Even more edifying is the final chapter, a personal meditation on the nature of Sinhalese art. Dr. Tammita-Delgoda provocatively calls it the “art of the poor people”, as it indeed was. Reflecting on Ananda Coomaraswamy’s Mediaeval Sinhalese Art, he contends that the world around these temples shaped their architecture, differentiating them from the much larger monuments of Anuradhapura and Polonnaruwa.
Scholars may consider that a defect in Kandyan architecture, but it was a form shaped by the society around it and the privations imposed by colonialism. Hemmed in from all sides, Kandyan temples could not aspire to the gigantism of earlier periods. That they managed to attract devotion and patronage despite this is, in that sense, truly remarkable.
A book like this contains few flaws, indeed almost none at all. Its only limitation is its lack of focus on the material conditions of Kandyan society, the contributions of the people to the construction of these edifices, and the point that such institutions were as much the work of kings and monks as of the citizenry. Dr. Tammita-Delgoda does identify the painters of Ridi Vihare and their backgrounds, but all too often he implies that kings, aristocrats, and monks were all that mattered in 18th Century Kandy. What were the conjunctions of class and caste that produced these magnificent edifices? We clearly need to know more.
Nevertheless, as a labour of love and a token of gratitude to the monks who tutored the author, ‘Ridi Vihare: The Flowering of Kandyan Art’ remains a first-rate work, the first of many that would follow. What it shows us is a pathway to the past, a way of life which modernity has eroded. Seeing it, one can only quote Ananda Coomaraswamy.
“In the words of Blake,
‘When nations grow old,
The Arts grow cold,
And commerce settles on every tree’.
In such a grim fashion has commerce settled in the East.”
If we don’t make sense of our past, we are doomed to forget it. The result can only be a hideous reconfiguration and reconstruction of our identity, a distortion that bears little to no resemblance to who we once were. It is this point that Dr. SinhaRaja Tammita-Delgoda brings up, a point we would do well to acknowledge and to heed.
The writer can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com
Features
NASA’s Epic Flight, Trump’s Epic Fumble and Asian Dilemmas
Three hours after the spectacular Artemis II flight launch in Florida, US President Donald Trump delivered a forlorn speech from Washington. Thirty three days after starting the war against Iran as Epic Fury, the President demonstrated on national and global televisions the Epic Fumble he has made out of his Middle East ‘excursion’. It was an April Fool’s Day speech, 20 minutes of incoherent rambling with the President looking bored, confused, disengaged and dispirited. He left no one wiser about what will come next, let alone what he might do next.
There was more to April Fool’s Day this year in that it brought out the nation’s good, bad and the ugly, all in a day’s swoop. The good was the Artemis II flight carrying astronauts farther from the Earth’s orbit and closer to the moon for the first time in over 50 years. The mission is a precursor for future flights and will test the performance of a new spacecraft, gather new understanding of human conditioning, and extend the boundaries of lunar science. It is a testament to humankind being able to make steady progress in science and technology at one end of a hopelessly uneven world, while poverty, bigotry and belligerence simmer violently at the other end.
Terrible Trump
The four Artemis II astronauts, three Americans, Reid Wiseman, Victor Glover, and Christina Koch, and one Canadian, Jeremy Hansen, are also symptomatic of the endurance of America’s inclusive goodness in spite of efforts by the Trump Administration to snuff the nation’s fledgling DEI (Diversity, Equity and Inclusion) ethos. To wit, of the four astronauts, Victor Glover, a Caribbean American, is the first person of colour, Christina Koch the first woman, and Jeremy Hansen of Canada the first non-American – to fly this far beyond the earth’s orbit. All in spite of Trump’s watch.
Yet Trump managed to showcase his commitment to America’s ugliness, on the same day, by presenting himself at the Supreme Court hearing on the constitutionality of his most abominable Executive Order – to stop the American tradition of birthright citizenship. He keeps posting that America is Stupid in being the only country in the world that grants citizenship at birth to everyone born in America, regardless of the status of their parents, except the children of foreign diplomats or members of an occupying enemy force. In fact, there are 32 other countries in the world that grant birthright citizenship, a majority of them in the Americas indicating the continent’s history as a magnet for migrants ever since Christopher Columbus discovered it for the rest of the world.
And birthright citizenship in the US is enshrined in the constitution by the 14th Amendment, supplemented by subsequent legislation and reinforced by a century and a half of case law. Trump wants to reverse that. Thus far and no further was the message from the court at the hearing. A decision is expected in June and the legal betting is whether it would be a 7-2 or 8-1 rebuke for Trump. In a telling exchange during the hearing, when the government’s Solicitor General John Sauer quite sillily dramatized that “we’re in new world now … where eight billion people are one plane ride way from having a child who’s a US citizen,” Chief Justice John Roberts quietly dismissed him: “Well, it’s a new world. It’s the same Constitution!”
Trump’s terrible ‘bad’ is of course the war that he started in the Middle East and doesn’t know how to end it. Margaret MacMillan, acclaimed World War I historian and a great grand daughter of World War I British Prime Minister Lloyd George from Wales, has compared Trump’s current war to the origins of the First World War. Just as in 1914, small Serbia had pulled the bigger Russia into a war that was not in Russia’s interest, so too have Netanyahu and Israel have pulled Trump and America into the current war against Iran. World War I that started in August, 2014 was expected to be over before Christmas, but it went on till November, 2018. Weak leaders start wars, says MacMillan, but “they don’t have a clear idea of how they are going to end.”
There are also geopolitical and national-political differences between the 1910s and 2020s. America’s traditional allies have steadfastly refused to join Trump’s war. And Trump is under immense pressure at home not to extend the war. This is one American war that has been unpopular from day one. The cost of military operations at as high as two billion dollars a day is anathema to the people who are aggravated by rising prices directly because of the war. Trump’s own mental acuity and the abilities of his cabinet Secretaries are openly under question. There are swirling allegations of military contract profiteering and selective defense investments – one involving Secretary of War Pete Hegseth.
Trump’s Administration is coming apart with sharp internal divisions over the war and government paralysis on domestic matters. There are growing signs of disarray – with Trump firing his Attorney General for not being effective prosecuting his political enemies and Secretary Hegseth ordering early retirement for Army Chief of Staff Randy George. In America’s non-parliamentary presidential system, Trump is allowed to run his own forum where he lies daily without instant challenger or contradiction, and it is impossible to get rid of his government by that simple device called no confidence motion.
Asian Dilemmas
Howsoever the current will last or end, what is clear is that its economic consequences are not going to disappear soon. Iran’s choke on the Strait of Hormuz has affected not only the supply and prices of oil and natural gas but a family of other products from fertilizers to medicines to semiconductors. The barrel price of oil has risen from $70 before the war to over $100 now. After Trump’s speech on April 1, oil prices rose and stock prices fell. The higher prices have come to stay and even if they start going down they are not likely to go down to prewar levels.
There are warnings that with high prices, low growth and unemployment, the global economy is believed to be in for a stagflation shock like in the 1970s. Even if the war were to end sooner than a lot later, the economic setbacks will not be reversed easily or quickly. Supplies alone will take time to get back into routine, and it will even take longer time for production in the Gulf countries to get back to speed. Not only imports, but even export trading and exports to Middle East countries will be impacted. The future of South Asians employed in the Middle East is also at stake.
In 1980, President Carter floated the Carter Doctrine that the US would use military force to ensure the free flow of oil through the Strait of Hormuz. Trump is now upending that doctrine – first by misusing America’s military force against Iran and provoking the strait’s closure, and then claiming that keeping the strait open is not America’s business. Ever selfish and transactional, Trump’s argument is that America is now a net exporter of oil and is no longer dependent on Middle East oil.
To fill in the void, and perhaps responding to Trump’s call to “build up some delayed courage,” UK has hosted a virtual meeting of about 40 countries to discuss modalities for reopening the Strait of Hormuz. US was not one of them. While Downing Street has not released a full list of attendees, European countries, some Gulf countries, Canada, Australia, Japan and India reportedly attended the meeting. Which other Asian countries attended the meeting is not known.
British Foreign Secretary Yvette Cooper has blamed Iran for “hijacking” an international shipping route to “hold the global economy hostage,” while insisting that the British initiative is “not based on any other country’s priority or anything in terms of the US or other countries”. French President Emmanuel Macron now visiting South Korea has emphasized any resolution “can only be done in concert with Iran. So, first and foremost, there must be a ceasefire and a resumption of negotiations.”
Prior to the British initiative focussed on the Strait of Hormuz, Egypt, Pakistan and Türkiye have been playing a backdoor intermediary role to facilitate communications between the US and Iran. Trump as usual magnified this backroom channel as serious talks initiated by Iran’s ‘new regime’, and Trump’s claims were promptly rejected by Iran. There were speculations that Pakistan would host a direct meeting between US Vice President JD Vance and an Iranian representative in Islamabad. So far, only the foreign ministers of Egypt, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia and Türkiye have met in Islamabad, and Pakistan’s Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar flew to Beijing to brief his Chinese counterpart, Wang Yi, of Pakistan’s diplomatic efforts.
The Beijing visit produced a five-point initiative calling for a ceasefire, the opening of the Strait of Hormuz and diplomacy instead of escalation. The five-point pathway seems a follow up to the 15-point demand that the US sent to Iran through the three Samaritan intermediaries which Iran rejected as they did not include any of Iran’s priorities. The state of these mediating efforts are now unclear after President Trump’s April Fool’s Day rambling. In fairness, Pakistan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs has announced that his country intends to keep ‘nudging’ the US and Iran towards resuming negotiations and ending the war.
While these efforts are welcome and deserve everyone’s best wishes, they have also led to what BBC has called the “chatter in Delhi” – “is India being sidelined” by Pakistan’s intermediary efforts? Indian Foreign Minister Jaishankar’s rather undiplomatic characterization of Pakistan’s role as “dalali” (brokerage) provoked immediate denunciation in Islamabad, while Indian opposition parties are blaming the Modi Government’s foreign policy stances as an “embarrassment” to India’s stature.
The larger view is that while it is Asia that is most impacted by the closure of Hormuz, with Singapore’s Foreign Affairs Minister Vivian Balakrishnan calling it an “Asian crisis”, Asia has no leverage in the matter and Asian countries have to make special arrangements with Iran to let their ships navigate through the Strait of Hormuz. There is no pathway for co-ordinated action. China is still significant but not consequentially effective. India’s all-alignment foreign policy has made it less significant and more vulnerable in the current crisis. And Pakistan has opened a third dimension to Asia’s dilemmas.
In the circumstances, it is fair to say that Sri Lanka is the most politically stable country among its South Asian neighbours. Put another way, Sri Lanka has a remarkably consensual and uncontentious government in comparison to the old governments in India and Pakistan, and even the new government in Bangladesh. But that may not be saying much unless the NPP government proves itself to be sufficiently competent, and uses the political stability and the general goodwill it is still enjoying, to put the country’s economic department in order. More on that later.
by Rajan Philips
Features
Ranjith Siyambalapitiya turns custodian of a rare living collection
From Parliament to Fruit Grove:
After more than two decades in politics, rising to the positions of Cabinet Minister and Deputy Speaker of Parliament, Ranjith Siyambalapitiya has turned his attention to a markedly different arena — one far removed from parliamentary debate and political intrigue.
Today, Siyambalapitiya spends much of his time tending to a sprawling 15-acre home garden at Vendala in Karawanella, near Ruwanwella, nurturing what has gradually evolved into one of the most remarkable private fruit collections in the country.
Situated in Sri Lanka’s Wet Zone Low Country agro-ecological region (WL2), Ruwanwella lies at an elevation of roughly 100–200 metres above sea level. Deep red-yellow podzolic soils, annual rainfall exceeding 2,500 millimetres, and a warm humid tropical climate combine to create conditions that make the region one of the richest areas in the island for fruit tree diversity.
Within this favourable ecological setting, Siyambalapitiya has become what may best be described as a custodian of a living collection—a fruit grove that now contains around 554 fruit trees and vines, many of them rare or seldom seen in contemporary agriculture.
Of these, 448 varieties have already been properly identified and documented with the assistance of agriculturist Dr. Suba Heenkenda, a retired expert of the Department of Agriculture. Together they have undertaken the painstaking task of cataloguing the plants by their botanical names, common Sinhala names, and the names used in ancient Ayurvedic and indigenous medical texts, assigning each species a unique identification number.
According to Siyambalapitiya, the Vendala estate is possibly the only single location in Sri Lanka where such a large number of fruit varieties—particularly rare and underutilized species—are maintained within one property.
“This garden came down to me through my grandfather, grandmother, mother and father,” he says. “It is a place shaped by three generations.”
The estate, he explains, began as a traditional home garden where crops such as tea, coconut and rubber were cultivated alongside fruit trees planted by family members over decades. Over time, however, it evolved into something much larger: a carefully nurtured grove preserving both common and obscure fruit species.
Siyambalapitiya recalls with affection one of the oldest trees in the garden—a honey-jack tree known locally as “Lokumänike’s Rata Kos Gaha.”
The story behind it has become part of family lore. According to village elders, his grandmother had brought home the sapling after visiting the Colombo Grand Exhibition in 1952 many decades ago and planted it near the house.
The tree soon gained fame in the village. Its tender jackfruit proved ideal for curry and mallum, while the ripe fruit was renowned for its sweetness.
“Ripe jackfruit from this tree tastes like honey itself,” Siyambalapitiya says. “Even the seeds are full of flour and can be eaten throughout the year.”
Yet age has not spared the venerable tree. It now shows signs of disease, and Siyambalapitiya and his staff have had to treat old wounds and monitor unusual bark damage.
“Once lightning struck it,” he recalls. “The largest branch began to die. Saving the tree required what I would call a kind of surgical operation.”
Such care, he says, reflects the deep attachment he feels toward the collection.
His fascination with fruit trees began in childhood. While attending Royal College in Colombo and living in a boarding house he disliked, Siyambalapitiya would insist that the family procure new fruit saplings for him to plant during his weekend visits home.
“That was the only ‘price’ I demanded for going to school,” he laughs.
Over the years the collection expanded steadily as he encountered new plants in forests, nurseries, and rural landscapes across the island.
The result today is a grove that includes traditional Sri Lankan fruit species, underutilized native varieties, forest fruits, and plants introduced from overseas.
Some species originate in Arabian deserts, while others thrive naturally in cooler climates such as Europe. Certain plants require greenhouse-like conditions, while others are hardy forest trees.
Managing such diversity is no easy task.
“One plant asks for rain, another asks for cold, and yet another prefers heat,” Siyambalapitiya explains. “Too much rain makes some sick, too much sun troubles others. The older trees overshadow the younger ones. You cannot feed or medicate them all in the same way.”
He compares the task to caring for a household filled with people from many nations and ages—each with different needs.
Despite the challenges, he believes the effort is worthwhile, particularly because many of the trees are native species that have become increasingly rare.
“If things continue as they are, some of these plants may disappear from our lives,” he warns.
To preserve knowledge about them, Siyambalapitiya is preparing to launch a book titled “Mage Vendala Palathuru Arana” (My Vendala Fruit Grove), which serves as an introductory guide to the collection.
The book, scheduled for release on April 18 at the Vendala estate, will be attended by Ven. Dr. Kirinde Assaji Thera, Chief Incumbent of Gangaramaya Temple,
Uruwarige Wannila Aththo, the leader of the Indigenous Vedda Community,
a long-serving former employee who helped maintain the plantation, and Sunday Dhamma school students from the region, who will participate as guests of honour.
The publication will also mark Siyambalapitiya’s eighth book. Previously he authored seven works and wrote more than 500 weekly newspaper columns offering commentary on politics and current affairs.
While working on the fruit catalogue, he is simultaneously writing another volume reflecting on his 25-year political career, including his tenure as Deputy Finance Minister during Sri Lanka’s most severe economic crisis.
For Siyambalapitiya, however, the fruit grove represents more than a hobby or academic exercise.
“The fruit we enjoy is the result of a tree’s effort to reproduce,” he says. “Nature has given fruits their taste, fragrance and colour to attract us. All the tree asks in return is that its seeds be carried to new places.”
That simple cycle of life, he believes, has continued for tens of thousands of years.
“And those who love trees,” he adds, “are guardians of the world’s survival.”
by Saman Indrajith
Pix by Tharanga Ratnaweera
- Four workers in charge of the four zones of the plantation
- Siyamabalapitiya explaning the evolution of plantation
- A foreign berry plant
- A Bakumba plant
- A rare jackfruit tree
- Siyambalapitiya pruning Pumkin Lemon plant
- Siyamabalapitiya explaning the evolution of plantation
Features
Smoke Free Sweden calls out to WHO not to suggest nicotine alternatives
It has been reported by the international advocacy initiative, ‘Smoke Free Sweden’ (‘SFS’) that many International health experts have begun criticizing the World Health Organization (WHO) for presenting safer nicotine alternatives rather than recognizing its role in accelerating decline in smoking.
As the world’s premier technical health agency, the WHO is empowered to support strategies that reduce morbidity and mortality even if they do not eliminate the underlying behaviour. Furthermore, it should base its guidance on evolving scientific knowledge, which includes comparative-risk assessments. Equating smoke-free nicotine alternatives with combustible cigarettes, is essentially putting lives at risk, according to the health experts contacted by SFS.
The warning follows recent WHO comments suggesting that vaping and other non-combustible nicotine products are driving tobacco use in Europe. This narrative ignores real-world evidence from countries like Sweden where access to safer alternatives has coincided with record low smoking rates.
A “Smoke-Free” status is defined as an adult daily smoking prevalence below 5% and Sweden is on the brink of officially achieving this milestone. This is clear proof that pragmatic harm-reduction policies work. Sweden’s success has been driven by adult smokers switching to lower-risk alternatives such as oral tobacco pouches (Snus), oral nicotine pouches and other non-combustible products.
“Vapes and pouches are helping to reduce risk, and Sweden’s smoke-free transition proves this,” said Dr Delon Human, leader of Smoke Free Sweden. “We should be celebrating policies that help smokers quit combustible tobacco, not spreading fear about the very tools that are accelerating the decline of cigarettes.”
It is further reported by health experts that conflating cigarettes with non-combustible alternatives risks deterring smokers from switching and could slow progress toward reducing tobacco-related disease.
Dr Human emphasized that youth protection and harm reduction are not mutually exclusive.
“It is critically important to safeguard against underage use, but this should be done by targeted, risk-proportionate regulation and proper enforcement, not by sacrificing the right of adults to access products that might save their lives,” he said.
Smoke Free Sweden is calling on global health authorities to adopt evidence-based policies that distinguish clearly between combustible tobacco – the primary cause of tobacco-related death – and lower-risk nicotine alternatives.
“Public health policy must be grounded in science and real-world outcomes,” Dr Human added. “Sweden’s experience shows that when adult smokers are given legal access to safer nicotine alternatives, smoking rates fall faster than almost anywhere else in the world.”
-
News4 days ago2025 GCE AL: 62% qualify for Uni entrance; results of 111 suspended
-
News6 days agoTariff shock from 01 April as power costs climb across the board
-
News7 days agoInquiry into female employee’s complaint: Retired HC Judge’s recommendations ignored
-
Business5 days agoHour of reckoning comes for SL’s power sector
-
Features7 days agoNew arithmetic of conflict: How the drone revolution is inverting economics of war
-
Editorial4 days agoSearch for Easter Sunday terror mastermind
-
Sports7 days agoSri Lanka’s 1996 World Cup heroes to play exhibition match in Kuala Lumpur
-
Features6 days agoSeychelles … here we come











