Features
The build-up, 1962 coup d’etat, the aftermath and secret mission to London

Continuing Mrs. Bandaranaike’s first term as PM
(Excerpted from Rendering Unto Caesar, by Bradman Weerakoon)
Although her political aspiration was “to lighten the burden on the suffering masses” Sirimavo soon found that the economic realities would not allow her a free hand. In the early sixties the terms of trade, which had been favourable in the fifties, declined sharply. The Korean war boom had run its course. The rise in the price of tea had plateaued and the trend was now downwards. Our external assets were diminishing and when Felix became finance minister he had no alternative but to cut down on imports drastically.
Use of the scarce foreign exchange resource was controlled and foreign travel, education and medical treatment abroad were strictly limited. Tariffs were increased on a large number of items other than food, fertilizer and medicines and the import of private motor cars was totally banned. As the situation worsened textiles, motor car and bicycle tyres and even common household items like batteries for torches and blades for shaving were hard to come by. I found that a welcome gift for a friend, when you had a chance of going abroad, was to bring him back a packet of Wilkinson blades.
Sirimavo had also to face the rising costs of the social-welfare measures which could not be reduced, except at great political risk, and which ensured a reasonable level of nutrition, health and education to the mass of the people. This cushioning of the cost of living by the rice subsidy, free health services and free education was becoming harder to maintain with each passing year. Something had to give and Felix preparing for the 1963 July budget, proposed to the Cabinet a reduction in the rice ration per family. He had of course got Sirimavo’s nod for the proposal but it was opposed by the Government Parliamentary Group and led to Felix’s resignation a few days before budget day.
T B Ilangaratne, a Bandaranaike old-timer well to the left of the party, was hurriedly sworn in as finance minister and there was no cut in the ration when the speech was read out. Once again, as in Dudley’s time, rice and its price had become a potent political instrument. Felix was given the ministry of agriculture but not without a delay of about two months, when he would often sit at my desk in the Temple Trees office wondering when and which portfolio Sirimavo would give him this time.
Ethnic Politics
The Federal Party, which had voted to defeat Dudley’s minority UNP government at the vote on the ‘Throne speech in March 1960 gave its support to Sirimavo Bandaranaike and the SLFP in the July elections. In return the Federal Party expected some movement on the proposals made in the BC Pact which had been further elaborated in its Statement of Minimum Demands which had been put both to the UNP and the SLFP.
These referred to the four basic objectives of regional autonomy for the Northern and Eastern Provinces, suspension of state-aided colonization, Tamil language rights especially regarding entry of Tamil speaking persons to government service and amendments to the Citizenship Act of 1948 which had deprived thousands of up-country Tamils of their right to vote.
However, Sirimavo’s immediate priority concerns were elsewhere and had more to do with reviving the economy which was in decline. But her economic policies of increasing state control over the commanding heights of the economy while providing relief to the majority was of little help to the Tamils as the industrial enterprises were located mainly in the South and the preference for Sinhala language proficiency in the public sector did not enable the Tamils to reap any benefit from this policy.
The other strand of her policy of exercising more state control over education through the virtual take-over of the assisted schools also indirectly created resentment among the Tamil middle classes and the Tamil Christians. Education in the Jaffna peninsula – the heartland of the Tamils – was largely in the hands of missionary schools. Sirimavo although educated throughout her school career in mission schools – Ferguson College in Ratnapura in the primary classes and then St Bridget’s Convent, Colombo, a leading Roman Catholic institution, was to pursue a determined policy of bringing the assisted schools under state control and eliminating the difference which existed between the privileged and the well-endowed mission schools and the state-run schools.
Some of the leading schools which had opted to remain outside of the state system and be fee levying private institutions, continued but with the changes introduced by Sirimavo a large number of important schools, including her own St Bridget’s lost the grant-in-aid from the state which had enabled them to run without charging fees. These in future were to be under the direct control of the state as regards recruitment of staff and the content of the education they imparted.
Her education policy, which was seen as part of the socialist orientation of the government was much resented by powerful elites, especially in the city of Colombo and among the higher bureaucracy, which had largely been recruited from the leading public schools. It was to trigger one of the principal challenges Sirimavo had to face, the attempted coup d’etat in January 1962.
The state take-over of assisted schools meant that state patronage and financial assistance, extended from colonial times to schools run by religious denominations, would cease. This followed earlier moves to curtail the visas of the nursing nuns of the Catholic orders who had for many years been the mainstay of the country’s health institutions, particularly in the cities.
The prime mintilster’s permanent secretary in the ministry of defence and external affairs NQ (Neil Quintus) Dias was well-known for his strong stand against ‘Catholic Action’ as it was then called. His actions in regard to the defence establishment and police were also being watched by the upper echelons of the three forces which were then largely manned by non-Buddhist officers who had had their secondary education mainly, in the denominational schools.
As these actions of the government continued, and there rose an influential lobby against the schools’ take-over, an important religious dignitary, Ignatius Cardinal Gracias, came over from Bombay, in a hurried visit to talk to the prime minister. Although he was courteously received and given high hospitality, Sirimavo did not retract from the stand she had taken. The Cardinal returned to Bombay mission unaccomplished.
The seeming lack of interest by the administration to the problems of the Tamils, as articulated by the FP and put forward in the Minimum Demands, led to the FP calling for a non-violent hartal at its party convention in Jaffna in January 1962. On February 20, 1962, Chelvanayakam led the satyagraha by lying down on the floor in front of the entrance to the Jaffna kachcheri and blocking entry to it. This soon became a mass movement of defiance to government authority and when on April 14 a postal service was inaugurated by the Federal Party, the government moved to declare a state of emergency.
The armed forces were sent in, the satyagrahis were dispersed and the Federal Party members were arrested. The satyagraha had collapsed but its echoes and the images of a Sinhalese army in occupation of the ‘Tamil homeland’ began to reverberate and form the genesis of the militant movement which was to emerge later. Brigadier Richard Udugama, later to be Army Commander, was an important figure in the restoration of law and order in the North.
The January 1962 Abortive Coup d’etat
This was the troublesome background in which the coup d’etat by military and police high-ups was planned to take place on the night of January 27, 1962, a Saturday. I believe this date was chosen since the prime minister was scheduled to be at Kataragama for a pirith ceremony that evening.
According to the program prepared by her aide D P Amerasinghe, Sirimavo was to leave Colombo on Friday, attend the puja on Saturday night and return to Colombo on Sunday. This decision was made 10 days before the date of the planned coup. However, on seeing the program for Kataragama, I recalled that about a month earlier the prime minister had received a letter from the Chief Incumbent of the Getambe Temple (Peradeniya) inviting her to a ceremony there on the same night. Sirimavo had asked me to write to the priest saying that she was unable to accept the invitation as some urgent work compelled her to remain in Colombo that evening.
As soon as I realized that the dates were clashing I quickly pointed out to the prime minister that it would not be proper for her to go to Kataragama on the night of January 27 particularly since she had informed the Getambe Temple priest that she was forced to remain in Colombo for some urgent duty. I told her that when the priest read in the newspapers that she was at Kataragama on the 27th night it would create a bad impression in his mind about her credibility. Mrs Bandaranaik appreciated my point and asked Amerasinghe to cancel the Kataragama trip. The coup leaders had planned their strategy assuming that Sirimavo would be at Kataragama that night. If Sirimavo had, in fact gone to Kataragama the coup may well have succeeded.
Planning for the take-over of the government had gone on for quite some time by a very few at the top. Security precautions based on the principle of those who ‘need to know’ had been strictly observed. The detailed plans were revealed to most of those involved only less than 48 hours from ‘H’ hour.
Colonel Maurice de Mel and Colonel F C de Saram were in charge of army arrangements for the coup, while Sydney de Zoysa and C C Dissanayake were in charge of police arrangements. Royce de Mel former Captain of the Navy, was also associated in the detailed planning of the coup, and it seems that the co-ordination and army and police operations was undertaken by Sydney de Zoysa, a retired DIG of police.
F C (Derrick) de Saram, was a key figure and wanted to ‘take the rap’ as he put it for the attempted coup. On hearing that something was seriously amiss that Sunday morning I reported to Sirimavo and Felix who were already at work at Temple Trees. F C de Saram, smartly turned out in his Colonel’s uniform – he was in the volunteer corps – and as usual, cheerful and confident, was at the front porch around 9.00 am. On my inquiring what was up since I was quite unaware of the night’s happenings, grinning broadly he replied breezily that there was some small matter which had come up on which he was wanted and went upstairs to where Felix had set up an investigating unit. I did not see him again until he was released from prison four years later.
Derrick was connected to the Bandaranaike family through marriage to an Obeysekere. He was a highly talented and popular figure with many sides to his character. I knew him well and admired him for his sportsmanship and his outstanding leadership for the Sinhalese Sports Club and his captaincy of All Ceylon at cricket. I did not realize that he had political sensitivities of any kind, until one evening after ‘nets’ at the SSC, he engaged me in a long conversation about his Oxford days and the part he had played in the agitation for Indian independence in the Indian Majlis — a vibrant agitational group at the time, in England. The conversation turned soon to the Sirimavo government’s socialist programs and the disastrous effect it was having on the country. I felt he was trying to draw me out and therefore, was cautious in my response.
As more and more military officers, many of them my acquaintances of the sports field, came in, the magnitude and widespread nature of the attempted coup came into focus. All of the Ministers of the Government, the Permanent Secretary for Defence and External Affairs, the Inspector-General of Police, the Deputy Inspector-General in charge of the Criminal Investigation Department, and some leftist leaders were among the persons to be arrested at some time after midnight on the 27th. The acting Captain of the Navy, Rajan Kadirgamar was also marked for arrest, while the other service commanders were to be restrained, and prevented from leaving their houses that night after a certain hour.
The persons arrested in Colombo were to be taken to army headquarters and imprisoned in the Ammunition Magazine, which is a reinforced concrete structure, partially underground. Those arrested outside Colombo were to be taken to the police headquarters of the area pending further instructions.
Soon after midnight, police cars equipped with radio and loud hailers were to be sent out to announce an immediate curfew in the city of Colombo.
As more and more details were revealed with the younger officers making long confessions” hoping that this would earn them a pardon, Felix tightened security and threw a cordon around Temple Trees. That evening I saw Rajan Kadirgamar dressed in blue battledress, toting a sub-machine gun and prowling up and down the front corridor. As he put it he was out there because no one knew, as of then, who was in and who was not and whether the coup was still on.
The atmosphere was very, very tense. Felix was in his element getting all the facts of the case and breaking down the evidence of those who tried to downplay what the plotters were doing on the Saturday night. They, the plotters were trying to make out that all they intended to do was a full dress rehearsal, to deal with an imminent breakdown of law and order that, they, the military top brass wished to avert in the national interest.
A feature of the investigation was the work of the DIG, CID, S A Dissanayake, the brother of C C Dissanayake, one of the chief suspects. The brothers had joined the force together as assistant superintendents, had been excellent policemen throughout and were competitive rivals. Blood was certainly not going to stand in the way of duty and Jingle (S A) was assiduous in unearthing fresh evidence against Jungle (C C) his own brother. This duty consciousness, in which duty transcended blood relationship, was perhaps part of a colonial inheritance, which is unheard of today.
Based on the facts revealed during the investigations, which were being conveyed to her each day, the prime minister was quick to act. Speedy changes were made in certain key positions in the armed forces and police. The attorney-general was consulted regarding the possibility of new laws to prosecute the plotters since existing legislation and procedures might be insufficient to deal with the case, and since there had been several references in the statements to the possible involvement of the Governor-General Oliver Goonetilleke, action to neutralize and remove him from office had to be effected as soon as possible.
Finally, the Cabinet decided to formulate new legislation to proceed with the case against 29 suspects. But this itself contained the seeds of failure. After conviction by the courts in Ceylon, the Privy Council to which the case was appealed proceeded to rule in favour of the accused now in remand on the grounds that the legislation was ultra vires to the Constitution. The defence had successfully pleaded the ground of the retroactive nature of the law and the Privy Council, the final court of appeal at the time had held with the appellants. The Privy Council judgment was delivered after the UNP had come back in 1965 and the government was not inclined to go any further. Whereupon those who had now spent around four years in detention and remand prison returned home and continued albeit at a lower profile to pursue their normal avocations both on the sports fields and in civil society.
As for the other line of action against the governor-general, this required two sets of measures. Firstly, informing the Queen since the governor-general was her appointee although the prime minister made the recommendation in the first instance. Secondly, to find a suitable alternative in case the Queen was prepared to drop Sir Oliver. There was fortunately for Sirimavo an appropriate candidate in William Gopallawa, then Ambassador in Washington. In Bandaranaike’s time Gopallawa who had been municipal commissioner of Kandy had been brought to Colombo as commissioner. Later he had been appointed Ambassador to China and thereafter in Sirimavo’s time Ambassador to Washington.
There had been some comment in the gossip columns of the weeklies that these appointments smacked of a little family bandyism since Gopallawa was the father-in-law of Mackie, Sirimavo’s brother. However, Bandaranaike had shrugged this off as Gopallawa had proved himself an efficient and clean municipal commissioner and a cautious and loyal ambassador and although not holding a particularly distinguished public service record, was fully eligible for the highest position in the political hierarchy.
On February 18, 1962 Felix Dias Bandaranaike made a statement in the House of Representatives and said that during the investigations of the attempted coup, the name of Sir Oliver Goonetilleke too had been mentioned. Sir Oliver indicated that he had no objection to being questioned like any other citizen. However, nobody had the power to question the duly appointed representative of the Queen without obtaining her permission.
I was sent on a secret mission to London – to see the Queen
One morning when I went to office, Sirimavo asked me to fly to London immediately with a ‘dangerous’ letter. I packed a suitcase and left for London in a hurry.Suffice it to say that when I returned to Ceylon after a week’s stay in London my mission had proved a success.
On the afternoon of February 26, 1962, we informed all newspaper offices and Radio Ceylon to stand by for a very important announcement to be released at midnight. Accordingly, Radio Ceylon too extended night transmissions beyond the normal closing times.
The announcement made under the name of Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike was broadcast at 12 midnight. It said that Her Majesty, the Queen of England, had kindly consented to a proposal made by the Queen’s Government in Ceylon to appoint Mr William Gopallawa as the governor-general of Ceylon to succeed Sir Oliver Goonetilleke. The appointment was to be effective from March 20, 1962, the announcement added. At the same time a similar announcement was made by Buckingham Palace, in London.
Features
Empowering Futures: Navigating intersection of innovation in globalised eduscape

In a recent interview with BBC’s Katty Kay, Sal Khan, the founder of Khan Academy and author of Brave New Words, presents a compelling and optimistic vision for the integration of Artificial Intelligence (AI) into classrooms. His views align closely with the themes of innovation, equity, and lifelong learning that frame current debates in global education.
The global education landscape is undergoing profound transformation, driven by rapid technological innovation, shifting socio-economic demands, and the imperatives of globalisation. As education systems, worldwide, grapple with questions of relevance, equity, and sustainability, the emergence of a fluid and interconnected learning ecosystem—what scholars and policymakers increasingly term the eduscape—demands urgent attention and critical reflection. This eduscape is not merely a digital evolution; it encapsulates the convergence of pedagogy, policy, and technology in a transnational context, marked by both opportunity and inequity.
A tool: Powerful assistant
At the forefront of this transformation is the integration of Artificial Intelligence (AI) into teaching and learning. Khan articulated a compelling vision for AI in education during the interview with Katty Kay. He envisions AI not as a substitute for educators but as a powerful assistant—enhancing personalisation, supporting creativity, and facilitating lifelong learning. His perspective reflects a growing body of scholarship that positions AI as a tool to augment human capabilities and address long-standing structural challenges in education.
However, the promise of innovation cannot be separated from the realities of educational inequity. The digital divide, disparities in access, and uneven capacity for adoption threaten to widen existing gaps. Moreover, the global diffusion of educational technologies raises questions about cultural homogenisation and the erosion of local pedagogical traditions. To navigate these tensions, a nuanced approach is required—one that blends technological advancement with inclusive policy, pedagogical integrity, and cultural responsiveness.
Investigation
I attempt to examine how innovation, equity, and lifelong learning intersect to shape education systems capable of empowering future generations. Drawing on recent developments in AI-enhanced learning, theories of constructivist and competency-based education, and global policy frameworks, such as Global Citizenship Education (GCE), this analysis aims to illuminate the pathways through which education can become more adaptive, inclusive, and transformative. Ultimately, this investigation seeks to articulate a vision for education that is not only future-oriented but also grounded in ethical and humanistic values.
The integration of Artificial Intelligence (AI) into education, as envisioned by Sal Khan, represents a transformative yet complex shift in pedagogy. Khan presents AI as a tool to personalise learning, re-engage students, and augment rather than replace the role of educators. While this perspective aligns with broader scholarly enthusiasm for educational technology, critical examination reveals the nuanced challenges and conditionalities associated with implementing innovation within global educational systems (see Figure 1: ChatGPT-AI generated infographic).
Innovation: Transformative but Conditional
Technological innovations, such as AI tutors, learning analytics, and immersive simulations, have reshaped learning environments by enhancing personalisation and engagement. Tools like Khanmigo (AI-powered tutoring assistant developed by Khan Academy) demonstrate AI’s potential to support differentiated instruction and enable formative assessment in real time. These innovations are congruent with constructivist learning theories, which emphasise the active construction of knowledge through interaction and experience.
However, innovation is not inherently emancipatory. Some argue that without critical pedagogical grounding, digital tools risk reinforcing pre-existing hierarchies and inequalities. For instance, AI systems that lack cultural and linguistic sensitivity may marginalise diverse learner populations. Additionally, algorithmic systems can over-standardise learning and diminish opportunities for creative and critical thinking, if not guided by thoughtful instructional design. Hence, innovation must be deployed with a clear alignment to pedagogical goals and equity principles.
Equity: The Persistent Digital Divide
Equity remains one of the most pressing challenges in the digital eduscape. Although AI-enabled education offers tools to support inclusion, the digital divide persists across and within nations. In many contexts, students lack consistent internet access, digital devices, or the digital literacy required to navigate AI-mediated learning environments. As UNESCO underscores, technological access alone does not guarantee inclusion; educational systems must also invest in teacher training, inclusive curricula, and culturally responsive pedagogies.
Actually, inclusive education is not a technical issue but a structural one, requiring curriculum redesign and institutional commitment to address barriers related to disability, language, gender, and geography. AI can support equity only when these broader systemic factors are simultaneously addressed.
Lifelong Learning: Expanding Educational Horizons
AI-facilitated learning also intersects with the growing emphasis on lifelong learning. The concept of education as a continuous process aligns with global workforce demands and the emergence of micro-credentials, modular online learning, and flexible learning pathways. Also, lifelong learning environments, supported by AI and personalised platforms, offer learners greater autonomy and alignment with real-world competencies.
Nevertheless, these innovations carry risks. Without adequate institutional support, learners may be overwhelmed by fragmented learning opportunities and credential inflation. Moreover, those in marginalised communities may struggle to participate in such systems due to digital exclusion or lack of social capital. Thus, while lifelong learning is vital, it must be equitably accessible and embedded within coherent policy frameworks.
Globalisation: Balancing Global and Local Needs
Globalisation plays a dual role in shaping educational transformation. On one hand, it facilitates cross-border collaboration, knowledge exchange, and technological diffusion. On the other, it can homogenise educational practices and marginalise local cultures. While platforms, like Khan Academy, aim to offer globally accessible learning, they may inadvertently reflect dominant cultural assumptions about knowledge, language, and pedagogy.
To mitigate this, UNESCO promotes Global Citizenship Education (GCE), which encourages students to engage critically with global challenges while valuing local identity and diversity. Integrating GCE into AI-driven systems presents an opportunity to foster civic-mindedness and ethical engagement, but it also requires intentional curricular design and policy support.
Human Agency: Anchoring Ethical AI Use
Despite the capabilities of AI, the role of teachers remains central. As Khan emphasises, educators provide the social-emotional scaffolding, ethical guidance, and cultural context that AI lacks. Further, AI should support teachers in making informed instructional decisions, not replace them.
The impact of AI on learning depends less on the technology itself than on the values, intentions, and pedagogical frameworks that shape its use. Ethical AI integration requires professional development, participatory design processes, and safeguards to prevent misuse or over-reliance. Teachers, students, and communities must be active agents in determining how technology shapes learning.
Synthesis
While AI offers powerful tools to enhance personalisation, access, and creativity, its implementation must be grounded in inclusive, context-sensitive, and ethically informed practices. The global eduscape is marked by asymmetries in infrastructure, capacity, and cultural fit. Therefore, empowering futures requires more than technological adoption—it demands a reimagining of education that is human-centred, culturally responsive, and globally aware.
Conclusion
As the global education landscape evolves, the integration of innovation, equity, and lifelong learning emerges not as optional enhancements but as foundational pillars for sustainable educational transformation. Sal Khan’s vision of AI as a pedagogical scaffold—rather than a replacement for human educators—epitomises the balanced and ethical approach required to navigate the complex terrain of the modern eduscape. His insights underscore the importance of
aligning technological tools with human-centred values, equity-focused frameworks, and culturally responsive pedagogy.
Artificial Intelligence, when applied judiciously, holds immense potential to personalise learning, re-engage students, support teacher decision-making, and foster creativity.
Yet, its transformative capacity depends heavily on the context in which it is embedded. Without adequate attention to digital infrastructure, teacher training, policy integration, and socio-economic disparities, the very technologies designed to democratise education may inadvertently deepen inequalities.
This attempt is to explore the interplay between global innovation trends and local educational realities, highlighting both the possibilities and the perils of rapid digital transformation. It affirms that lifelong learning—flexible, modular, and competency-based—must be central to educational planning in the 21st century, especially in preparing learners to adapt to technological disruption and global change.
To truly empower future generations, education systems must be agile yet grounded, innovative yet inclusive, and global in outlook yet locally relevant. This requires not only investment in technology but also a commitment to inclusive policy design, community engagement, and ethical foresight. Moving forward, sustained cross-national research, policy experimentation, and institutional collaboration will be essential to shaping an eduscape that serves all learners—equitably, creatively, and sustainably.
(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe. The views and opinions expressed in this article are personal.)
Features
Government’s success in building trust needs to expand

The government has been trying to overcome the most serious economic breakdown in the country’s modern history. By negotiating without prevarication with the International Monetary Fund and by allowing the Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption, the police and the courts to do their work, it has persuaded foreign partners and the general public that it can be trusted. That credibility now gives the government an opportunity that its predecessors failed to obtain. It can and must use the trust it has gained to confront the legacy of war and heal a country that is still divided.
The clearest indication of its credibility is the new relationship with the IMF. Last week the Executive Board of the IMF completed the fourth review of the Extended Fund Facility and authorised the disbursement of another USD 350 million to Sri Lanka. At the same sitting it granted waivers after the government admitted that it had under reported expenditure arrears during earlier reviews and outlined steps to improve the integrity of its data. Instead of imposing penalties, the IMF was lenient to acknowledge the corrective action and the deeper commitment to fiscal transparency.
In other cases, as in Ukraine in 2001 and Dominican Republic in 2004, the IMF has frozen assistance when borrowers misstate information. That it refrained on this occasion speaks well about the confidence it places in the government’s determination to reform. Tariff increases, steeper taxes and the withdrawal of blanket subsidies have caused economic hardship to the people, yet the government has persisted. Reserves have stabilised, inflation is low and output is returning to modest growth even as turbulence in global trade poses fresh risks. Debt restructuring with bilateral and commercial creditors is close to completion, and the automatic electricity tariff formula, another unpopular measure, has been brought into play.
People’s Priorities
As a result of inflation that took place in the past, and the failure of salaries to catch up, real income is still below precrisis levels. A survey undertaken by the National Peace Council in August 2024 just before the presidential election revealed that the first priority of people in their choice of candidate was economic development. The study conducted by Dr. Mahesh Senanayake and Ms. Crishni Silva of the University of Colombo offers valuable insights into the key drivers of voter behaviour within Sri Lanka’s dynamic political context. Despite the continuing economic problems, voters seem willing to wait as they continue to place their trust in the government’s sincerity.
The NPC survey examines how factors such as economic concerns, perceptions of leadership, trust in public institutions, and prevailing social issues influence electoral decisions. The research showed that voters overwhelmingly prioritised candidates who would offer clear strategies to address Sri Lanka’s economic crisis, fight corruption, and ensure good governance. 93% of respondents indicated they would vote based on a candidate’s ability to resolve the economic crisis. 83% prioritised candidates committed to tackling corruption. 86% favoured candidates with strong educational backgrounds, signaling a preference for qualified, competent leaders over political dynasties.
Trust also depends on tackling corruption. Nothing corrodes confidence faster than impunity. It is in relation to accountability for economic crimes that progress is most visible. Recently, a bench of three judges, acting on an indictment filed by the Bribery Commission, sentenced two former ministers to prison terms of twenty and twentyfive years for misappropriating public funds in a sportsequipment procurement scandal. The convictions, the first of their scale against former cabinet members, signal that no office is beyond the reach of the law and that economic crimes will be answered in court.
The Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption together with the police and judiciary is showing that state institutions can tackle the problems of corruption if the government does not interfere to block them discharging their mandates. The same principles should hold where it concerns non-economic crimes as well. The recent arrest of a former Karuna group cadre for the murder of the Vice Chancellor of Eastern University nearly twenty years ago, shows this is possible. The success in dealing with economic crimes and making those guilty of those crimes accountable to the law and the courts shows the way to dealing with the festering problem of human rights violations that took place during the three decades of war.
International Involvement
The failure of successive governments to deal satisfactorily with the issue of war crimes has led to demands for international involvement in ensuring accountability for war crimes and serious human rights violations. This has been resisted by successive governments on the grounds that direct international involvement in the form of being investigators, prosecutors and judges will be an unacceptable erosion of national sovereignty which will give power to those from the international community who have no longer term stake in the country in the same way Sri Lankan citizens have. In the past this was also an excuse for inaction.
UN Human Rights High Commissioner Volker Turk dealt diplomatically with this issue. His offer of international assistance was to offer support to domestic mechanisms. He said, “Sri Lanka has struggled to move forward with domestic accountability mechanisms that are credible and have the trust and confidence of victims. This is why Sri Lankans have looked outside for justice, through assistance at the international level. Ultimately it is the State’s responsibility and it is important that this process is nationally owned – and it can be complemented and supported by international means.”
However, the reluctance to get into the area of war crimes persists due to the possibility of political backlash. The visit of the High Commissioner to the Chemmani mass grave site was made possible because the Magistrate’s Court in Jaffna stood firm and acceded to the demand made by human rights lawyer K. S. Ratnavale that the High Commissioner should be given access to the Chemmani site. The court overruled objections by the government representatives who said that the High Commissioner should be given access only to the entrance to the Chemmani site and not to the mass grave itself. A process that is independent and open to scrutiny would strengthen the government’s standing both at home and abroad.
Winning Trust
Allowing independent observers to monitor evidence preservation, witness protection and laboratory analysis could offer the assurance victims now demand. The government already has a model for such openness. It has accepted extensive external oversight of its fiscal policy. IMF staff examine Treasury books each quarter, verify information and insist on course corrections when targets are missed. The general population now believes this supervision helps rather than weakens the country. It is regarded as a seal of confidence that attracts investment and assures taxpayers that rules apply to all.
Sri Lanka will not lay the ghosts of its war to rest until the truth about the missing persons is ascertained. Although not much reported in the media in the English and Sinhala languages, in the north and east, the issue of the Chemmani mass grave has revived painful memories and made this the topic of everyday discussion. In view of justifiable concerns and past failures to protect evidence, an international role in safeguarding evidence can be considered. In addition, international experts can be brought in to ensure that the evidence is gathered and analysed in a scientific way drawing on international experience.
Just as the government has won the trust of the IMF and the general public regarding its commitment to improving their economic lives, it can win the trust of the people of the north and east who lost their loved ones in the war. The government can design an accountability process that is credible, nationally owned and internationally respected. This can pave the way for national reconciliation of which Sri Lanka can be an example to the world that is increasingly conflictual and divided.
by Jehan Perera
Features
Oh Palestine, Palestine: Unchaining education

Why do the books deceive?
Why is every letter of the alphabet chained,
every human mouth bridled
From Concerto Al-Quds by Adonis (On Palestine): Trans: Khaled Mattawa
Why is every letter of the alphabet chained, indeed, as this poet asks. If I may attempt an answer to this question, I will want to raise it as an epistemological and pedagogic concern. And I do have to raise it as a question of Palestine as well, for our lives caught in the systems of knowledge production, and shaped by their parameters, have to reckon with one of the greatest political infamies of our shared global history: Palestine.
Many of us watch with horror the war on Gaza. We are anxious about the ongoing conflict, and the uptick on the war, with USA bombing Iran and the counter offensives. The war in Ukraine had already raised concerns about an impending World War III. Continuous wars, one leading to the other, had always been a part of our lives in recent times. We had always put it down to geopolitics and the West’s need to dominate and shape the world order in the way it wants to. Palestine had always been central to this. But this understanding, important as it is, has to be combined with a theoretical and semiotic understanding of what Palestine stands for, in very material terms; its peoples, the multiple dispossessions that the land has undergone, the horror of war and mayhem, the resistance of the Intifadas – in other words, in historical and political terms. We need to do this as our own act of solidarity and strategy, because our “books deceive.”
Colonialism, Neocolonialism and Neoliberalism
Let me begin, genealogically, with neoliberalism, the current political and economic moment. It is no overstatement to say that today neoliberalism as an economic and cultural truth of modernity (progress) has become naturalised, an uncontested premise of our economic and political system, an economic and political world order that combines colonialism with extreme economic appropriation, misappropriation. Neoliberalism is a neocolonial moment, in which the world’s working population is turned into an exploited (reserve) army of labour for global capital. We see colonial capital reinvented as global capital and financial markets, crisscrossing the world and masquerading as the new world order, the messianic deliverer. Yet, Palestine tells us, no!
One of the enduring colonial characteristics of the neoliberal moment is the way land in the third world, and in colonised regions across the globe, has been a chief marker of the process of dispossessing people of their livelihoods in their places of living. Global capital recolonises land through marketising it as a commodity. Colonialism has always been about land, the control of land, the control of the people of the land, the exploitation of land, and the exploitation of the labour of its people.
In the neocolonial, neoliberal world we live in, this colonial legacy repeats itself not just as farce, but as tragi-comedy. And then we have the tragedy of Palestine. Neoliberalism can be understood as the deep vulgarisation of the tragedy of colonialism. As neocolonial subjects, we gleefully adapt, change and create policies on education that have become a blanket endorsement of the global north’s, and the global order’s, politics and policies. Committees, Commissions and Collaborations converge to market these policies. The books continue to deceive.
Decolonising Knowledge: The Other
Decolonising knowledge has gained some traction in the postcolonial world, particularly in the areas of knowledge production and in education. It does put up a valiant challenge to colonial premises of advancements. Yet, much of this interesting trend, a politically demanding one, has become entangled for the most part, in creating east/west or north/south binaries. More often than not decolonisation merely re-narrates colonial paradigms in nationalist idioms, an act that Frantz Fanon, the arch anti-colonialist theorist warned us against in Black Skin White Masks and Wretched of the Earth. While we look on with horror at what is unfolding in Palestine, a century after the brazenly racist, colonialist Balfour Declaration that inaugurated the settlement of European Jews in Palestine, Palestine might well be a starting point for us to engage in a conversation on decolonisation. In such a re-examination of what Palestine was and is today, we may have to side step geopolitics as the point of entry and instead recentre colonial pursuits and persuasions as our primary focus.
The area around West Asia (called the Middle East from the European perspective) has always been, materially and metaphorically speaking, the pathway to the land masses around Russia, China and the Indian subcontinent in Asia. Politically and culturally, it was the crucible in which a European identity was forged, forming its crucial Other. The crusades are an early indication of it. In early modernity, the lines harden. Can one forget the expulsion of Jews and Muslims from Spain in 1492, the same year, Columbus lands in Bahamas, to inaugurate that side of the genocide project? When Emilia in the play Othello, tells Desdemona, “I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his [Lodovico] nether lip,” we can immediately see the central role Palestine plays in the nascent colonial imaginary of Shakespeare’s Europe. Shakespeare’s classic play on race immediately centres this othering of Othello as a question of the European Christian versus all others, including other Christians. The play is not just about race, but is about race and sexuality, one of those constitutive anxieties of the European psyche that helped shape colonial appropriations in the name of a putative moral superiority. Sometimes we seem to be still stuck in early modernity. Tracing the place of Palestine in the colonial imagery is important for any epistemological project of decolonisation.
Epistemologically and pedagogically, the question of Palestine should lead us to question our own nationalisms and nation state prerogatives. The Naqba in Palestine was in 1948, the same year, the people of Malaiyaham in Sri Lanka were disenfranchised, just a year after the conflagration that the independence of India and Pakistan was. These were not fortuitous. We have story after story to tell of this series of dispossessions. As Mahmood Mamdani insists, in Neither Settler nor Native, writing on Palestine, one needs to think beyond the nation and nationalism. Beyond the specificities of the conflict and war in Palestine, solidarity for Palestine may want to begin with this exploration of our shared colonial legacy, leading us into far reaching queries about the sociopolitical order of global capital in the world today. Decolonisation lies at the heart of an active democratisation process of the polity, both nations, and nation states, challenging the global world order at the same time. In any project that examines our knowledge systems, and in any putative attempt to decolonise education, we may need to begin with that.
As Adonis, the poet, writer and theorist, has enjoined us, every letter of the alphabet needs to speak freely, openly and honestly. Palestine, in 2025, has to show us the way and the friends of Palestine have to set the tone for this challenge. And then, just then, we may be able to turn around and look back at what happened in 1996, in Chemmani, and look at the children buried in the shallow graves of mass murder, without flinching, all while accepting responsibility.
In Jerusalem, and I mean within the ancient walls,
I walk from one epoch to another without a memory
to guide me. The prophets over there are sharing
the history of the holy … ascending to heaven
and returning less discouraged and melancholy, because love
and peace are holy and are coming to town.
From, “In Jerusalem” by Mahmoud Darwish
(Sivamohan Sumathy is attached to the Department of English at the University of Peradeniya)
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies
by Sivamohan Sumathy
-
Features3 days ago
One of the finest foreign ministers the nation missed
-
News3 days ago
Cheap alms bowls imports hit Sri Lanka makers, monks
-
Opinion6 days ago
COPE findings and USJ reaction: External students left high and dry
-
News5 days ago
New KDU Medical Faculty admission policy challenged in Supreme Court
-
Features3 days ago
Going through Colombo Medical School
-
Features6 days ago
A shining example …
-
Sports3 days ago
Liverpool team join family of Diogo Jota, brother for funeral in Portugal
-
Editorial5 days ago
‘Celebration of debt’ and harsh reality