Features
The historical context of Sri Lanka’s ethnic conflict
The themes of power-sharing, devolution, and federalism, which run through this work, have their origin in issues which are not connected to ethnicity. Indeed, federalism, as a structure of governance suited to Sri Lanka, was first proposed in an entirely different setting. At its inception, this had to do with the aspirations not of the Tamils, but of the Kandyan Sinhalese.
The Donoughmore Commission
A watershed in the Island’s constitutional development was the Donoughmore Commission which arrived on our shores in November, 1927. The Kandyan National Assembly, in their representations to the Commission, declared: “Ours is not a communal claim or a claim for the aggrandizement of a few. It is a claim of a nation to live its own life and realize its own destiny. A federal system will enable the respective nationals of the several states to prevent further inroads into their territories and to build up their own nationality.”
This had been foreshadowed during the years leading up to the appointment of the Donoughmore Commission by representations on similar lines by prominent Sinhala representatives of the Ceylon National Congress. An exemplar was S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike, fresh from his 1laurels at Oxford, who, in a lecture delivered to the Students’ Congress in Jaffna on 17 July 1926, went so far as to characterize federalism as the “only solution to our political problems.” The lecture was the culmination of a line of argument which he had developed persuasively in six letters to The Ceylon Morning Leader, published between 19 May, and 30 June, 1926.
The Donoughmore Commissioners were not friendly to the idea of federalism because of their robust aversion to division along communal or other lines, and their commitment, as the foundation of their report, to unity of the body politic. A nuanced approach typified their recommendations, in so far as they showed themselves well disposed to the concept of Provincial Councils. They accepted the system in principle, although inclined to leave the modalities of implementation to an elected administration.
It is interesting to note that, almost a 100 years ago, the Donoughmore Commissioners showed sensitivity to a range of issues which gave rise to vigorous and even acrimonious debate in succeeding decades. Among these was a nexus between Provincial Councils and local government institutions, and the question whether Members of Parliament should be eligible to sit in Provincial Councils. On this latter issue, as recently as two years ago, Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe, citing copious precedents, strongly contended for the view that there should be no constitutional or statutory bar.
Incipient indications of ethnic identity emerging as an impediment to the growth of a healthy multi-party system proved to be a source of anxiety to the Donoughmore Commissioners. This accounted for their decision to spend several days in Jaffna and Batticaloa to listen to the views of a cross-section of the public there. Organizations which made representations to the Commission included the All Ceylon Tamil Congress and The Jaffna Association. The Commissioners were alive, as well, to burgeoning communal tensions within the Ceylon National Congress.
A Marxist-Leninist perspective
The impetus towards federalism had a strong ideological perspective, from a Marxist-Leninist standpoint. This was vividly mirrored in the policy articulated by the Ceylon Trade Union Federation on 23 September 1944, on which was built the constitutional proposals addressed by the Communist Party to the Ceylon National Congress on 18 October 1944. Subject to minor refinements and matters of detail, the two documents can be taken together. They go very far, indeed. Anticipating future developments, merger of the North East was specifically contemplated.
The nomenclature used had much in common with the current discourse. The Sinhalese and the Tamils were envisioned as two distinct “nations”, or “historically evolved nationalities”. The homeland concept found expression in relation to a contiguous territory. This was thought to be justified on the basis that the distinct nationalities “have their own language, economic life, culture, and psychological makeup.”
The high water mark of the proposals was the assertion that “Both nationalities have their right to self-determination, including the right, if they so desire, to form their own separate independent state.” The sheet anchor of the proposals was that the equality and sovereignty of the “peoples” of Ceylon must be recognized. These were among the ideas that found unanimous acceptance at the Town Hall rally on 15 October1944.
The Communist Party’s proposals not only gave expression to these normative principles, but spelt out practical means for arriving within the legislature. This was embodied in the proposal relating to two Chambers enjoying coeval authority. The Chamber of Representatives was to be elected on the basis of territorial constituencies buttressed by universal adult franchise, while the second Chamber, designated the Chamber of Nationalities, was marked by the special feature of the principle of equality between the nationalities.
These proposals received further elaboration in a memorandum submitted to the Working Committee of the Ceylon National Congress by two prominent members of the Communist Party, Mr. Pieter Keuneman and Mr. A. Vaidialingam. The thrust of their reasoning was predicated on a multinational state with inbuilt safeguards for the “non- dominant nationality”. The premise was set out pithily as follows: “We regard a nation as a historical, as opposed to an ethnographical, concept. It is a historically evolved, stable community of people living in a contiguous territory as their traditional homeland.”
The Soulbury Commission
These events occurred in the immediate backdrop to the transition from colonial to dominion status. A Commission headed by Lord Soulbury, appointed by Whitehall to consider the grant of full independence to Ceylon, arrived in the country in December, 1944. The main focus of their work was intended to be a comprehensive set of proposals prepared by the Board of Ministers, which functioned under the Donoughmore Constitution. This was in response to the Declaration of May, 1943, made by Mr. Oliver Stanley, Secretary of State for the Colonies, setting out, in outline, the intentions of the British government.
Some degree of friction arose, however, because of the subsequent exhortation to the Soulbury Commission “to consult with various interests including minority communities” interpreted by the Board of Ministers as a breach of faith, in that it deviated from the previous assurance that the Commission’s mandate would be confined to consideration of the Memorandum to be submitted by the Ministers. It was possible, however, to arrive at a pragmatic compromise, in terms of which the Ministers, although boycotting formal sessions with the Commission, made their views known extensively during frequent social interactions.
Their proposals were contained in the ‘Ministers’ draft’, which was mainly the work of Sir Ivor Jennings, a renowned constitutional expert, later to become Vice-Chancellor of the University of Ceylon, in close consultation with Mr D. S. Senanayake and Sir Oliver Goonetilleke. The report of the Soulbury Commission, based primarily on the Ministers’ draft, was published in 1945 as a White Paper, which formed the foundation of the three legal instruments comprising the Constitution of Ceylon of 1948.
An interesting feature of the work of the Soulbury Commission was explicit recognition of the complexity of inter-communal relations on the Island and the near- insoluble difficulties they posed in respect of constitutional development. The Commission showed candour in its observation that “The relations of the minorities – the Ceylon Tamils, the Indian Tamils, Muslims, Burghers, and Europeans with the Sinhalese majority – present the most difficult of the many problems involved in the reform of the Constitution of Ceylon.”
The Soulbury Commission found itself subject to rival pressures of the greatest intensity. The Board of Ministers had graduated from their efforts directed at amendment of the Donoughmore Constitution to a full-blooded demand for dominion status. The countervailing pressure came from the leadership of the All Ceylon Tamil Congress, which strenuously contendedc omplete transference of power and authority from neutral British hands to the people of this country is causing, in the minds of the Tamil people, “in common with other minorities, much misgiving and fear.”
The most significant aspect of the Soulbury Commission’s initiatives consisted of the search for mediating techniques to discourage polarization. On the whole, this effort was marked by commendable pragmatism. It is of interest that the Commissioners, invited to consider in earnest the federal route, had little fascination for it, nor did the idea of a Bill of Rights find favour with them. If the underlying fear related to encroachment of seminal rights by capricious legislative action, this anxiety could have been convincingly assuaged by enshrining in the Constitution a nucleus of rights placed beyond the reach of the legislature.
This expedient would have been effective, if combined with appropriate mechanisms of judicial review. In line with this approach, it would be an important part of the judicial function, exercised by the Apex Court, to rule on the issue of incompatibility of impugned legislation with paramount safeguards embodied in the Constitution.
The Soulbury Commissioners were not persuaded of the wisdom of this course of action, and shied away from support for comprehensive judicial review as a protective lever. Their preference was for less intrusive mechanisms. At that stage of constitutional evolution, it seemed to them that adequate protection could be conferred on minority communities by the combination of two sets of safeguards. The first had to do with the numerical strength of minority representation in Parliament. The main plank of the submission in this regard by the Tamil-speaking leadership resided in a distinction between an absolute and a relative majority.
The gist of the argument was that the majority community, although admittedly in the legislature, should not be possessed of sufficient strength to override all minority representatives, taken together. With this end in view, Mr. G. G. Ponnambalam, leader of the All Ceylon Tamil Congress, argued strenuously for the 50-50 formula, in terms of which all minority communities collectively would be entitled to 50% representation, complemented by proportionate representation in the Cabinet of Ministers, as well. This was urged as the only realistic buffer against communal hegemony.
The extreme dimensions of this proposal held no appeal to the Soulbury Commissioners. Conceding as they did the gravity of the issue, they opted for a more moderate solution. This took the form of a proposed electoral system, at the base of which lay a mixture of population-based and territorial criteria. The basic character of the system involved the election of members relative to spread of population, subject however to the refinement that four additional members each were to be allocated to the Northern and Eastern Provinces, over and above their entitlement on the population-centric criteria.
The intention was to make provision in some form for “additional weightage in the interest of equity underpinning the electoral system, as a whole. This fell far short of the ambitious claim by the Tamil leadership for “balanced representation”, which entailed a mechanism to forestall a permanent Sinhala majority, with the probable risk of unbridled majoritarianism. The markedly limited scope of the suggested modality met with disillusionment on the part of the Tamil leadership. It was, nevertheless, not a stand-alone formula.
It stood in conjunction with a carefully crafted constitutional limitation on the legislative competence of Parliament. The legislature was expressly precluded from making any law, the effect of which was to “make persons of any community or religion liable to disabilities or restrictions to which persons of other made liable”, or “confer on persons of any community or religion any privilege or advantage which is not conferred on persons of other communities or religions”. Any law contravening this prohibition was characterized as void. The provision against discrimination, couched in this form, was susceptible to being overridden by a vote of two-thirds of the total membership of Parliament.
(To be continued next week)
(Excerpted from The Sri Lanka Peace Process: An Inside View by GL Peiris)
Features
The Great AI Schism: When the Titans of Tech tell us to slow down
by Prof. C. A. Saliya
Something extraordinary happened in September 2026. The very people who have spent the last decade pouring tens of billions of dollars into building artificial intelligence, the visionaries, the investors, the CEOs, suddenly started telling the world to hit the brakes. It’s a bit like the captain of a speeding train leaning out of the window and shouting, “Actually, maybe we should slow down a bit!” The public, understandably, is confused. We’ve been told AI will cure cancer, solve climate change, and give us all free time. Now we’re being told it might kill us all. Welcome to the great AI schism.
To understand what’s happening, you have to listen to the people in the room. These are not wild-eyed doomsayers on the internet. They are the titans of the industry. And they are starting to argue with each other.
Dario Amodei: The Insider Who Wants to Hit Pause
Dario Amodei, the CEO of Anthropic (Claude AI), is the man who kicked the hornet’s nest. In a 3,800-word essay, posted on his website in mid-September 2026, he didn’t just suggest caution, he demanded a slowdown. “We must slow the pace at which we improve the capabilities of AI models,” he wrote. His reasoning is simple and terrifying: the technology is moving faster than our ability to control it. He warned that AI could be misused for cyberattacks, bioterrorism, and serious economic disruption.
What makes Amodei’s warning so chilling is that it comes from a man whose company, Anthropic, builds one of the most powerful AI models in the world, Claude. He’s not a critic on the sidelines. He’s in the driver’s seat, and he’s telling us the car might not have brakes. In an interview with CNN’s Anderson Cooper, he said he agreed with a departing Anthropic researcher who claimed AI could “kill us all” by the end of the decade. That researcher, 27-year-old Jacob Coxon, resigned in protest, saying the people building AI “earnestly believe that it could kill us all”. When the people building the technology start resigning because they’re afraid of it, you should pay attention.
Bill Gates: The Elder Statesman with a Warning
Bill Gates has been around long enough to know a paradigm shift when he sees one. The Microsoft co-founder, who spent decades warning the world about pandemics and climate change, has now turned his attention to AI. And he’s not mincing words. In September 2026, Gates warned that AI is “powerful enough to drive events that, you know, cause a billion deaths”.
Gates is not worried about Terminator-style robots. He’s worried about people. “There’s never been a weapon as powerful as the combination of people with ill intent using the latest AI tools,” he said. His solution is simple: regulation. “No one thinks self-regulation is enough,” he told NBC’s Meet the Press. He even offered to be the man to convince President Trump to regulate AI. Gates is a pragmatist. He knows the technology is coming. He just wants to make sure it doesn’t get us first.
Sam Altman: The Showman with a Conscience (Maybe)
Sam Altman, the CEO of OpenAI (Chat GPT), has always been the industry’s greatest showman. He’s the man who told us AGI (Artificial General Intelligence) is “just around the corner” and that AI will soon be a “genie that can grant any wish”. But even Altman is now singing a different tune. In September 2026, he ruled out an OpenAI IPO in 2026, citing safety concerns. He called even a 10% risk of AI causing human extinction “unacceptable”.
“I agree with Dario that we need to pace the frontier,” Altman posted on X. This is a remarkable shift. Altman has spent years being criticised for moving too fast, for prioritising profit over safety. Now, facing mounting evidence that AI models can cause real harm, from cyberattacks to mental health crises, he’s suddenly the voice of caution. Is it genuine? Or is it a PR move? The cynics will tell you it’s the latter. But the fact remains: when Sam Altman says we need to slow down, the world listens.
Elon Musk: The Provocateur Who Saw It Coming
Elon Musk has been warning about AI for over a decade. He’s the man who called AI “more dangerous than nuclear weapons” long before it was fashionable. So it’s no surprise that he joined the chorus of slowdown calls in September 2026. But Musk being Musk, he couldn’t resist a bit of dark humour. When asked if we’re all going to die within 10 years, he replied, “I don’t want to disappoint you, but we’re all going to die someday anyway”.
But behind the joke is a serious point. Musk believes AI models could escape their constraints, take control of military systems, and even launch nuclear weapons. His solution is mutual oversight: leading AI companies should test each other’s systems for safety before release, and he even suggested a deal with China to make it happen. Musk is a provocateur, but he’s also a visionary. And his vision is one where AI is a weapon that we might not be able to control.

Satya Nadella: The Quiet Strategist
While the others are shouting about doom, Satya Nadella is quietly building an empire. The Microsoft CEO doesn’t talk about extinction risks. He talks about “agentic AI”, AI that can act autonomously, which he calls “a new paradigm”. Microsoft’s Azure cloud platform, which powers these AI agents, grew 43% in the last quarter, surpassing $100 billion in annual revenue.
Nadella’s view is simple: don’t compete to build the most powerful model; compete to control the “orchestration layer”, the systems that connect different AI models. He wants to build the infrastructure that everyone else relies on. It’s a smart play, and it’s making Microsoft a fortune. But Nadella’s silence on safety is deafening. While Amodei and Altman wrestle with their consciences, Nadella is counting the money. It’s not that he doesn’t care; it’s that his business model depends on AI being adopted, not regulated.
Jacob Coxon: The Whistleblower Who Lit the Fuse
You may not have heard of Jacob Coxon. He’s not a billionaire. He’s not a CEO. He’s a 27-year-old researcher who worked at both OpenAI and Anthropic. And in September 2026, he resigned from Anthropic with a warning that shook the industry. “Neither company is acting responsibly,” he wrote on X. “They are launching themselves directly toward a superintelligence capable of self-improvement, and gambling with our lives”.
Coxon’s warning was remarkable because it came from inside the machine. He said the people building AI “earnestly believe that it could kill us all by the end of the decade”. He called for a temporary freeze on advanced AI training. His resignation triggered a wave of concern, and even Dario Amodei admitted he agreed with Coxon more than he disagreed. Coxon is the canary in the coal mine. And the canary is not looking well.
Donald Trump: The Wildcard
And then there’s Donald Trump. The US President has consistently downplayed AI fears, calling them a “hoax” and a “sick conspiracy”. But even Trump is starting to change his tune, sort of. In September 2026, he announced plans to create an “AI Force” and appoint an AI “Czar”. He said the government would look for “bad” uses of AI through the existing criminal and civil justice systems.
But Trump’s priority is clear: winning the AI race against China. “We will not in any way hinder or stifle the growth of this incredible industry,” he said. He wants AI to account for 25% of US GDP. Trump is not a technologist. He’s a businessman and a nationalist. He sees AI as a tool for economic dominance, not an existential threat. Whether he’s right or wrong, his stance puts him at odds with almost every expert in the field.
The Bottom Line: A House Divided
So where does this leave us? We have the CEOs of the world’s leading AI companies, Amodei, Altman, and Musk, all calling for a slowdown. We have Bill Gates, the elder statesman of tech, warning of a billion deaths. We have a whistleblower who says the industry is gambling with our lives. And then we have Satya Nadella, quietly building the infrastructure that powers it all, and Donald Trump, who wants to speed up.
The irony is hard to miss. The people who built the AI train are now telling us to slow down. The people who profit from the AI economy are the ones building the tracks. And the public is caught in the middle, trying to figure out who to believe.
Maybe the most honest thing anyone said came from Jacob Coxon, the 27-year-old researcher who quit. “The people building AI earnestly believe that it could kill us all by the end of the decade,” he wrote. “This is not a marketing stunt”.
If the people building the technology believe it could kill us, perhaps we should listen. Before it’s too late.
(Prof. C. A. Saliya, is a charted accountant, academic, researcher and former banker. He is the author of SAMAJA GAVESHAKAYA and Springer Publication DOING SOCIAL RESEARCH. He can be contacted at saliya.ca@gmail.com. The views expressed in this article are his own and do not necessarily represent those of the organisations with which he is affiliated.)
Features
Preventing grievances from becoming communal
by Jehan Perera
The death sentence on Sivarasa Anojan, a Sri Lankan citizen convicted of blasphemy in Saudi Arabia has taken a central place in national consciousness for the past several weeks. It has been in the headline news since it was first reported last month. There have been many initiatives taken locally to get a more lenient sentencing by the Saudi authorities. There is also an undercurrent that is critical of both the culture and religion from which this sentencing emanates. This also sustains the widespread publicity being given nationally to the issue. By way of contrast, the controversy caused by the forcible removal of the Thileepan statue in Jaffna has not significantly impacted upon the national consciousness. There was only passing mention of the incident in the national media which has been overtaken by other events.
However, in the north and east of the country, and in the diaspora, the removal of the Thileepan statue has become a major issue. It has led to protest marches led by university students and widespread condemnation by civil society and political groups. The issues underlying the Thileepan statue have deep undercurrents in the Tamil consciousness particularly in the north and east which time is unlikely to dispel. The real test of harmony in a multi-ethnic, multi-religious society like Sri Lanka is not whether communities coexist peacefully when nothing controversial is at stake. Rather, the test is how they respond when an event touches their identities and grievances. The death sentence imposed on Anojan in Saudi Arabia and the removal of the Thileepan statue in Jaffna carry the risk of becoming grievances to entire communities.
In the case of Anojan, a young Tamil migrant worker, he was first sentenced to five years imprisonment and a fine of three million Saudi riyals over a Facebook comment. Both he and the Saudi prosecution appealed, with the appeal court raising the sentence to death. This has led to public sympathy for him in Sri Lanka.
Appeals for clemency have come from the President, government and opposition leaders, clergy of all faiths and Muslim political leaders. At the same time there is a need to reject attempts to turn the case into a source of anti-Muslim sentiment or collective blame. Peacebuilding therefore has to be within Sri Lanka as well as diplomatic. Religious leaders and civil society in the country should be ready to quell rumour, even as Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu and Christian leaders stand together publicly.
Thileepan Statue
The Thileepan controversy has had a different trajectory. Many Tamils admire Thileepan, the LTTE name of Rasaiah Parthipan, who died on 26 September 1987 after a twelve-day fast. His demands were addressed to India but included matters pertaining to the Sri Lankan government including the release of detainees held under the Prevention of Terrorism Act. The statue put up during this year’s commemoration was removed by police in the early hours of 27 September, a day after the commemoration ended. The government’s legal concern, as articulated by its spokesperson, was the LTTE remains a proscribed organisation and before removing the statue, police had presented facts to the court. But law and memory answer different questions and the depth of Tamil anguish cannot be disregarded.
For many Tamils, remembrance of Thileepan is connected to their sense of loss and historical memory. The memorial has been destroyed and rebuilt more than once, and each destruction has added to the meaning it carries. Many who mourn Thileepan are grieving a young man who died without violence and by his own fast. They also grieve an era of loss of the struggle for Tamil rights and self-determination for which Thileepan has become a symbol. The Office for Reparations Act, No. 34 of 2018, provides for collective reparations and gives the Office for Reparations a role in policies on memorialisation. This does not automatically permit any particular statue, nor does it override laws on public places or proscribed organisations. But it shows that memorialisation is recognised within Sri Lanka’s framework for reparations and reconciliation. There is also a wider question of equality.
The JVP that now leads the NPP government was itself once proscribed when it took up arms against the state in which tens of thousands died, later entered democratic politics, and now for many years has publicly commemorated its own fallen. The opportunity to remember those who died should not belong to one community alone.
A commitment to peacebuilding requires that the same trust that has been given to former militants of one community needs to be given to members of other communities if equal citizenship and equal rights are to have meaning. Further, the Office for Reparations Act provides for reparations through livelihood. It is today a fact that those former LTTE members who went through the government’s rehabilitation process find it difficult to get jobs in the private sector.
Private sector employers are reluctant to come under surveillance for employing former LTTE members. There needs to be equal access to employment and removal of unjustified barriers to reintegration, with targeted public programmes where necessary. Until this situation is realized on the ground, the government needs to consider employing those who went through the government’s rehabilitation process and still unable to find suitable employment.
Continuing Peace
The challenge that post-war Sri Lanka faces, a full 17 years after the end of war, is to strengthen the foundations of trust between communities rather than deepen existing suspicions. Anojan is an individual Sri Lankan citizen facing a severe sentence in another country. His case should not become a reason to blame Sri Lankan Muslims. Thileepan is remembered differently by different communities, but the dispute over his memorial should not become a reason to revive the communal divisions of the past. The cases are also mirror images in an important respect. In the Anojan case, the state is an advocate pleading before another government. In the Thileepan case, the state is the actor whose decision is being judged. The first calls for quiet diplomacy and restraint in public language. The second calls for fairness and explanation, and the burden on the state is heavier.
The common roots of the two cases lie in mistrust that does not belong to one community alone. It has been produced by experiences of discrimination, violence, insecurity and loss that have been interpreted differently by different communities. Grievances turn communal when an individual is seen as a representative of a community, when institutions seem to treat communities unequally, and when people feel their pain goes unacknowledged. Each of these can be addressed. The system change that the Sri Lankan people voted for in 2024 would need to include a government that rejects collective blame, acknowledges grief and explains its decisions openly. It also requires state institutions to act transparently and consistently, so that no citizen feels that the law protects some communities more than others.
This peacebuilding imperative requires enlightened leadership as much as legal authority. It requires leaders who will speak to their own communities against prejudice, even when this is politically inconvenient. It requires religious leaders who will demonstrate solidarity across religious boundaries. And it requires civil society to recognise that peacebuilding is not simply preventing violence after tensions have risen, but is addressing the mistrust and grievances that allow tensions to rise in the first place. Sri Lanka has learned, at great cost, that communal divisions can become much larger than the events that initially give rise to them. The Anojan and Thileepan cases give Sri Lanka an opportunity to demonstrate that it has learned from its past. The test of Sri Lanka’s continuing peace is whether we can address difficult grievances without turning them into communal ones.
Features
Sri Lanka Cricket Bill: Governance reform is not yet a cricket strategy – Part II
By Sarath S. Kodithuwakku
President, Institute of Management of Sri Lanka; Senior Professor, University of Peradeniya
(Continued from yesterday)
Representation, Independence and Decision-Making
The membership-based electoral structure should provide representation without becoming a substitute for executive management. The seven Elected Directors would bring the perspectives of the SLC membership into the Board, while the seven Independent Directors would provide additional professional expertise and independence. The model’s effectiveness will, therefore, depend on whether the Board can integrate these perspectives into coherent strategic decisions while maintaining a clear boundary between governance and day-to-day management.
The equal division between Elected and Independent Directors also raises a governance-design question. An even-numbered Board can create a tie. The Bill addresses this directly: in the event of equality, the Chairperson has a casting vote; in the Chairperson’s absence, the Deputy Chairperson has a casting vote; and if both are absent, an Independent Director, elected to preside, has the casting vote. The issue is, therefore, not whether a tie can be resolved, but how this mechanism affects the balance between representation, independence and accountability.
The leadership structure reinforces this balance: the Chairperson is elected from among the Independent Directors and the Deputy Chairperson from among the Elected Directors. The casting-vote arrangement makes the Chairperson’s role and perceived independence particularly important, especially when a major strategic decision divides the two components of the Board.
The Bill’s committee provisions could support a disciplined model of delegation, but implementation will depend heavily on the terms of reference adopted by the new Board. The framework could be strengthened by requiring a published cricket-development strategy, a clear division of powers among the Board, executives and selection committees, transparent principles for major development allocations, and periodic reporting on outcomes across men’s, women’s, schools and domestic cricket. These measures would strengthen accountability without legislating the details of team selection or tournament scheduling.
From Measurement to Strategic Accountability
If the Board is to hold management accountable for strategy rather than simply for short-term results, it needs a performance framework that captures both outcomes and the capabilities that produce them.
SLC should consider requiring an explicit multi-year cricket-development strategy, supported by measurable objectives and an annual strategy review. Such a strategy should identify the development pathway from schools and grassroots cricket through domestic competitions to high performance; define major capability priorities such as coaching, sports science, data and analytics; set resource-allocation principles; and establish indicators against which progress can be assessed.
The purpose would not be to turn cricket into a bureaucratic exercise. Strategic accountability simply creates a disciplined basis for asking whether the organisation is doing what it said it would do, whether its assumptions remain valid, and whether resources are producing the intended results.
From Measurement to Organisational Learning
SLC should, therefore, consider adopting a formal Balanced Scorecard. Rather than measuring success solely through international match results or annual financial audits, the framework could track four interdependent perspectives:
Financial Sustainability:
commercial growth, financial discipline and compliance.
Internal Processes:
domestic tournament quality, development pathways and selector-process integrity.
Stakeholder Value:
grassroots development, school cricket and women’s cricket expansion.
Strategic Capability:
coaching quality, sports science, talent development, data and analytics capability, and the organisation’s ability to convert investment into sustainable performance.
The purpose of such a framework would not be to reduce cricket development to a collection of numbers. Rather, it would create a disciplined process for asking four fundamental management questions:
What did we expect to achieve?
What actually happened?
Why was there a difference?
What should we change as a result?
Evaluating these dimensions periodically would help SLC move beyond performance reporting towards genuine organisational learning.
ICC as a Stakeholder in Governance Reform
The ICC is another important stakeholder whose interests should be recognised in the reform process. SLC’s governance arrangements do not operate solely within Sri Lankan law; they also have to be compatible with the governance obligations associated with ICC membership. The ICC’s Articles of Association require each Member to provide for free and democratic elections (or nominees from outside its members) and to manage its affairs autonomously, without government or other public-body interference in the governance, regulation or administration of cricket.
International experience demonstrates that ICC engagement in member governance restructuring is not unusual. In the United States, after the ICC expelled the old national association for chronic governance failures, the ICC directly oversaw a multi-year project to design a new governance model. The ICC Board formally approved the constitution for a replacement body (USA Cricket) before it was adopted. The resulting structure combined elected constituent directors with independent directors, showing that an ICC-backed framework can accommodate both forms of representation.
In Nepal, the ICC established a Nepal Advisory Group comprising stakeholders from across the game to recommend constitutional amendments, with adoption of the revised constitution and subsequent elections forming part of the conditions for reinstatement of ICC membership.[8] The ICC subsequently facilitated an independent panel that included ICC nominees together with representatives of Nepal’s National Sports Council and the existing cricket administration to map the election process, guidelines and timelines.[9] More recently, in 2026, an ICC delegation visited Bangladesh to engage with stakeholders on governance and electoral matters.[10] The ICC has also reported that its Deputy Chair and another ICC Board representative visited Sri Lanka and met relevant stakeholders to assess ongoing developments, while the ICC Board reiterated the need for elections to be held as soon as possible.
These precedents make the ICC a legitimate stakeholder in considering the governance implications of the proposed Bill. This does not mean that the ICC should determine Sri Lanka’s domestic legislation, nor that every feature of the Bill requires prior ICC approval. It does, however, suggest that early and formal engagement with the ICC would be prudent, particularly where the proposed arrangements concern Board independence, elections, government involvement and the transition to the new governance structure.
This is particularly relevant because the Bill creates two institutional arrangements that deserve careful scrutiny from an autonomy perspective. The Transformation Committee is responsible for managing the transition until the First Board is constituted, while the Nomination Committee, although structurally independent of the SLC Board, includes representatives connected with the Sports Ministry and the National Sports Council. Neither arrangement, by itself, establishes government interference. However, taken together, they make it important that the independence of the incoming Board is demonstrable through transparent procedures rather than assumed from the structure alone.
Given the professional calibre and international exposure of the members of the Transformation Committee, it would be reasonable to expect that the importance of ICC engagement would have been recognised. Although any such consultation has not been evident in the public domain, it is therefore reasonable to expect that the ICC has either already been consulted or will be consulted before the Bill is enacted. Such engagement would allow potential incompatibilities to be identified before the new structure is enacted and implemented, rather than after the fact.
The Transition Is Itself a Governance Challenge
The transition provisions introduce a significant organisational-change challenge. Replacing the existing club- and association-based governance structure with a new hybrid Board and governance architecture is not simply a legal exercise; it is an organisational change programme. The Sri Lanka Cricket Transformation Committee is required to manage the transition until the First Board is constituted and, during that period, to establish rules covering matters including tournament structure, domestic governance, selection committee appointments, committee terms of reference, the Nomination Committee process and the election of the Elected Directors.
Structural reform on paper can encounter resistance from established interests, institutional habits and existing routines. The implementation phase will therefore require a clear change-management framework, including stakeholder engagement, transparent onboarding for Independent Directors, clarification of decision rights, alignment of legacy committees, and careful transfer of information and responsibilities.
Without attention to these organisational factors, cultural friction could undermine the intended administrative improvements. The success of the reform will therefore depend not only on the text of the legislation but also on the quality of the rules, appointments, delegation arrangements and organisational behaviours that follow it.
From Governance Reform to a Cricket Strategy
The Bill deserves credit for addressing how SLC is constituted and for creating places for specialist advice. It should not be dismissed simply because it does not prescribe a batting order or a domestic fixture list. Those are not appropriate tasks for legislation.
Its limitation is more precise: the proposed governance arrangements do not, by themselves, assure the strategic capability of the Board or the quality, independence and accountability of the decisions made beneath it. They establish the architecture. The future Board and management must supply the strategy, capabilities, discipline and learning mechanisms that make the architecture work.
A stronger reform would connect four elements: a Board selected for collective strategic capability; professional cricket management with clear delegated authority; transparent but non-mechanical selection and investment processes; and systematic evaluation of development outcomes. Within the first of these, information technology and computer science should be recognised as distinct from the broader capability to understand and govern data science, analytics and emerging AI-enabled decision support.
Ultimately, the governing question is not only who gets a seat at the SLC Board table. It is whether that Board can build, fund, execute and learn from a credible strategy for Sri Lankan cricket.
References
1. Department of Government Printing, Sri Lanka. Sri Lanka Cricket Bill, Gazette Supplement, Part II of September 25, 2026, issued on 28 September 2026.
2. International Cricket Council. Media release, 15 July 2026, reporting the ICC Board discussion of Sri Lanka Cricket and the need for elections to be held as soon as possible.
3. Sport New Zealand – Ihi Aotearoa. Nine Steps to Effective Governance, particularly Step 1: Define and Agree the Board’s Role; Step 4: Provide Strategic Leadership; Step 5: Employ and Support a Chief Executive; and Step 8: Get the Right People on Board.
4. Cricket South Africa. Governance and management frameworks, including the delegation-of-authority framework, Board committees, Cricket Committee, Cricket Pipeline Committee and CEO accountability.
5. International Cricket Council. ICC Articles of Association, provisions requiring free and democratic elections and autonomous administration without government or other public-body interference. ICC. https://images.icc-cricket.com/image/upload/prd/f7vm88yw1933dc38cgtg.pdf
6. International Cricket Council. “ICC outlines proposed USACA constitution.” ICC, 2017. https://www.icc-cricket.com/news/icc-outlines-proposed-usaca-constitution
7. International Cricket Council. “Approved constitution marks historic landmark for cricket in USA.” ICC, 2017. https://www.icc-cricket.com/media-releases/approved-constitution-marks-historic-landmark-for-cricket-in-usa
8. International Cricket Council. “ICC welcomes Nepal Special General Meeting to adopt revised constitution.” ICC, 2018. https://www.icc-cricket.com/media-releases/icc-welcomes-nepal-special-general-meeting-to-adopt-revised-constitution
9. International Cricket Council. “Independent Panel meet to progress Nepal elections under revised constitution.” ICC, 2018. https://www.icc-cricket.com/media-releases/independent-panel-meet-to-progress-nepal-elections-under-revised-constitution
10. International Cricket Council. “ICC delegation visits Bangladesh to engage with stakeholders on governance and electoral matters.” ICC, 2026. https://www.icc-cricket.com/media-releases/icc-delegation-visits-bangladesh-to-engage-with-stakeholders-on-governance-and-electoral-matters
11. International Cricket Council. “ICC Board approves governance, membership and member support decisions.” ICC, 2026; see also “ICC Board Meeting,” 2026, reporting ICC representatives’ meetings with stakeholders in Sri Lanka. https://www.icc-cricket.com/media-releases/icc-board-approves-governance-membership-and-member-support-decisions
(Concluded)
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