The JVP’s congratulatory message to the Chinese Communist Party over the latter’s centenary seems a tad disconcerting. This is the same party that rails against “Chinese colonisation” in this country, the same party that worries about the country’s ruling elite modelling itself on the Chinese state. Reading the message, one rubs one’s eyes: in around 430 words, it praises the CPC for its efforts to bring “modernity and prosperity” to the Chinese people, for saving them from the clutches of “feudal overlords” a hundred years ago, and for taking the lead in the fight against Western imperialism. As befits such hopeful messages, it concludes on a hopeful note, with its belief that the Communist Party will strengthen “coordinated work among the Left parties to lead the world towards Socialism.”
Clearly, more than a mere rift between rhetoric and practice marks the JVP’s attitude to China. Yet its message to the CPC should not be viewed in isolation: it’s a reflection of other parties and their Janus-faced responses to the China question.
All the same, it’s intriguing how oppositional outfits, despite their anti-China rhetoric, keep going back to China in one sense or the other. The JVP is a case in point: this is not the first time it has despatched a congratulatory message to the much maligned monolith that is the CPC. In 2017, for instance, it sent a message to the CPC’s 19th National Congress, in which it not only referred to Xi Jinping as “Comrade”, but lauded the party’s efforts at establishing a “moderately prosperous society in an all-round way.”
These sentiments are, no doubt, in keeping with the JVP’s Maoist roots. But they remain a far cry from the JVP’s present conjuncture; it’s no coincidence, perhaps, that while the party badmouths China’s leaders in the vernacular, mostly in Sinhala, it despatches, and publishes, its congratulatory messages to those same leaders in English.
Perhaps it assumes that the Chinese aren’t familiar with Sinhala, or that they are tolerant of opposition parties badmouthing them in public within the country. Whatever the reason, it must be acknowledged that ambivalent though its response to China may be, such ambivalence is hardly the JVP’s preserve. Champika Ranawaka’s 43 Senankaya, for instance, borrows many of its political ideas from China’s example, in particular the achievements of Deng Xiaoping’s reforms; Mr Ranawaka correctly, and lucidly, contrasts the latter reforms with the oligarchy and family bandyism that have come to pass for development here today.
As for the SJB, the anger at Sajith Premadasa’s refusal to give a direct answer to an Indian (WION) journalist over her questions about Chinese footprints in Sri Lanka is an indication of where certain critics of this regime want his party to go: down a petty, pro-West path, in line with the UNP’s policies during the yahapalana years. Mr Premadasa’s measured reply shows that the SJB, far from embracing those policies, is firmly rejecting them.
In fact, the only parties which seem consistent in their opposition to China’s presence in Sri Lanka are the TNA and the UNP; thus a TNA MP summons fears of “Cheelamism” against the Port City Bill, while sharing an image of what he alleges to be a Chinese worker in the north on Twitter (which he later takes down when it’s shown to be a Sri Lankan). Surprising as it may seem, the UNP, by contrast, is not too intense over China; thus none less than Mr Ranil Wickremesinghe praises Beijing for its “role in preserving peace”, adding that Sri Lanka “has also benefited in a very big way.” This represents a turnaround for the UNP, even though it does not detract from the China-bashing it indulged in not too long ago.
What distinguish the almost hysterical responses of these parties to China from the more rational, reasoned responses of every other party, including the SJB, are the lines of critique they take with regard to the regime’s dalliance with Beijing. There are, at present, two such lines the opposition can opt for: it can critique the politico-military-security risks the regime is opening itself to through its ever growing proximity to China, or it can critique China itself from a human rights, liberal democratic, Western lens.
The second line should be dropped and abandoned, and the first preferred to all other lines. This is not because we are, or should be, beholden to Beijing, but because Beijing’s political power and economic clout cannot, and must not, be ignored.
The logic of Sri Lanka’s critics of China is that we should look to the West for better values, such as human rights, the rule of law, and a free press. But to stake a country’s hopes on the fulfilment of these objectives, while foregoing on the more urgent imperatives of economic and national security, indeed of state and popular sovereignty, would be as short-sighted as thinking a country can plug itself to China’s meteoric rise forever.
There is much to learn from China, and not (just) in matters of security. Dayan Jayatilleka puts it best: “China is the role model of the Gotabaya regime only in the security realm, not the socio-economic.” Deng Xiaoping’s reforms, mistakenly assumed to have been on par with Western neoliberalism, provide us an ideal case study of how to liberalise an economy while liberating it from dependence on the West. Xi Jinping is demonised and vilified today, by the Western press, for the same reason Deng was viewed cynically, with much disfavour, by that press decades ago: because his reforms are bolstering Beijing’s prospects as the West’s, particularly the US’s, most formidable peer competitor.
It goes without saying that one must take such briefings with a pinch of salt. Only then can we come up with a critique of Sri Lanka’s tilt to China which pinpoints this regime’s failures without demonising the only all-weather friend we have.
That is why Dr Dayan J’s critique of Mangala Samaraweera’s barely disguised diatribe against China stands out. What is interesting about Mr Samaraweera’s piece, published in this paper last week, is that it inverts China’s political history against its present situation.
Samaraweera dwells at considerable length on the Opium War, the Nanjing Treaty, and the Century of Humiliation, and depicts all these as the backdrop against which Beijing seeks to dominate the world today. He cautions the present government against taking isolationist stances on the world stage and advises it against getting closer to China. There is a cosmetic critique of Western colonialism – which, he says, civilised savages (in what way, he does not say), but at a cost to the natives of the colonies – yet what he does with this important point isn’t so much as to critique Western colonialism’s successor, neocolonialism – as logic would dictate – as it is to raise the alarm about Bejiing’s imperial ambitions.
The question of whether China is dominating the world on Western colonial lines has been answered by several Western academics, writers, and journalists. Jacobin Magazine puts it in perspective in a recent piece: “China Is Not the Enemy — Neoliberalism Is.” The Socialist Equality Party, no friend of the Gotabaya regime, has noted the bankruptcy of propagating Western myths about Beijing’s ambitions when critiquing matters concerning symbols of Sri Lanka’s proximity to China, such as Port City. Much closer to home, Dr Dayan J distinguishes between China’s largely assumed colonial ambitions and its inescapable political influence, deconstructing Samaraweera’s interpretation of Cold War history.
These interventions show that it is possible to criticise the government without depicting a dependable ally (whose views on sovereignty, as Dr Dayan noted in an interview with Sergei De Silva-Ranasinghe in Policy Magazine, makes for much value congruency with Sri Lanka) as a fire-breathing dragon hell-bent on dominating the country’s political life; to put it pithily, a critique of the government’s proximity to China which places emphasis on the government’s agency rather than on Beijing’s supposed “sinister designs.”
The SJB, hopefully, is evolving on these fronts, throwing out what didn’t work for the UNP and embracing a new set of policies. The JVP should evolve on similar lines as well, but as I noted in my piece on that party a few weeks back, its confused response to China masks an almost schizoid attitude to politics. Perhaps the best summing up of this attitude would be that while the JVP, which sent those congratulatory missives to the CPC, is officially tied to a socialist worldview “under the guidance of Marxist-Leninist theory and practice” against the forces of “capitalism and imperialism led by the USA and its allies”, the JVP’s parliamentary outfit, the NPP, stands on a Kautskyist (an authoritative promulgators of orthodox Marxism after the death of Engels) social democratic base which does not shy away from attacking the very communist parties and allies it wishes well elsewhere.
The JVP’s problem is that it does not seem able to define itself. As things stand, it does not know where to stand. On China as on politics in general, it has lost the thread. Other parties have shown the way for the opposition, at least when it comes to China. If the JVP does not follow this course, it will lose itself. It should course-correct now.
The writer can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org
WHY AKD’S SECTARIAN OUTBURST IS MISPLACED & COUNTERPRODUCTIVE
DR. DAYAN JAYATILLEKA
The JVP leader Anura Kumara Dissanayake (AKD) used rude language in Parliament to criticize the No Confidence Motion moved by the Samagi Jana Balavegaya (SJB). He called it “stupid, moronic”.
Curiously he and UNP leader Wickremesinghe seemed to share a similarly negative view of the No Confidence Motion. Ranil thought that the NCM qualifies the Opposition to belong in the Guinness book of records.
AKD’s remarks and their timing weren’t exactly a model of political wisdom and intellect.
Firstly, one would have thought that any attack by the SJB on the government, however amateurish one thought it was, would be a positive thing. After all, in his famous ‘Message to the Tricontinental’ Che Guevara commended “battles won or lost—but fought—against the enemy”.
The leader of a party that led two unsuccessful uprisings should know better than to judge a battle simply by its immediate outcome and its strengthening of the enemy.
Secondly, the timing of AKD’s crude sideswipe was atrocious. A major battle has commenced and is about to move to the next level with the presentation of the KDU bill in Parliament in the first week of August.
That battle is being waged against an enemy that is qualitatively different from any that the JVP has ever faced. Gotabaya Rajapaksa and his closest associates aren’t planters and volunteer army officers like Gen Ranjan Wijeratne or Oxford-educated hawks like Lalith Athulathmudali.
This battle therefore needs a broader front of alliances, partnerships and blocs than ever before in Sri Lanka’s history since 1947. Insulting the country’s largest Opposition party isn’t perhaps the best way to built a broad united action front or to secure covering fire in parliament. Rather, it is “moronic”.
AKD’s sectarianism is not limited to the SJB and its recent no-confidence motion. Given the stakes in the coming confrontation over the KDU bill, AKD should be ready to appear on the same stage as his counterpart Kumar Gunaratnam, leader of the FSP. If the JVP and FSP leaders appear on the same stage and address the crowds, it would give a huge boost to the Movement. However, AKD remains the guy who said on TV that there was never a JVP member, let alone leading personality (who by the way worked hard, clandestinely, to rebuild the party) known as Kumar Gunaratnam. Kumar Gunaratnam’s older brother Ranjithan, who was eliminated by the state, was one of the JVP’s hero martyrs.
Thirdly, AKD’s situation is both absurd and hypocritical. He purports to lecture the SJB on political stupidity. Under AKD’s leadership, the JVP which had 40 seats in 2004 has dropped to three in 2020. He is also a leader under whom the JVP’s vote-share dropped to 3%. If the SLPP rolls back the low cut-off point that President Premadasa instituted and restores the original cut-off point that JRJ imposed, AKD’s party would be in dire straits.
Fourthly, AKD is attempting to talk down from a lofty height to a party which has achieved much more than his. Rohana Wijeweera had the ambition—as announced in his two master classes which he took around the country, about the fate of the LSSP and the SLFP- to become the main left party (which it is) and then the main opposition party. Having existed for 55 years it has failed to achieve the latter status.
By stark contrast, Sajith Premadasa’s SJB did so shortly after its formation. In the first general election it faced it obtained more seats and a higher percentage of votes than SWRD Bandaranaike’s SLFP obtained at its first general election in 1952.
It achieved the status of the biggest Opposition party in a few months; a status the JVP long aspired to. This was Sajith Premadasa’s achievement, coming on the heels of his ability to score 42% of the vote against Gotabaya Rajapaksa at the 2019 Presidential election. It is amusing when he and his party are given lectures on political unwisdom from someone who reduced his party from 40 seats to three.
While Sajith has been able to secure the leadership of the Opposition by making his party the largest in the Opposition space, the zenith of AKD’s achievement has been to knock Ranil Wickremesinghe’s dead UNP into fourth place and gain the third spot (and three percent of the vote).
Fifthly, a glance around the world will show that however dramatic the protests and upheavals, the endgame is either electoral-democratic or a military coup perhaps in electoral form.
The Arab Spring and its Egyptian outcome provide one example of the latter. Latin America provides the better example, of the former.
It would take the wildest leap of the imagination and the widest deviation from reason, to assume that a candidate who obtained 42% on the deep downswing, and a party that is the main opposition formation, can be outpolled by anyone from a party that cannot get into double digits.
A little modesty is in order therefore, from AKD; not an outburst of misplaced arrogance.
I was there, watching and listening, the last time the JVP, on a high, was dismissive of a Premadasa. It was at Nugegoda in June-July 1989. The event was a well-attended JVP rally by the roadside, which went on into night. President Ranasinghe Premadasa had released over a thousand JVP detainees, declared a unilateral ceasefire, invited the JVP to re-enter the democratic electoral process, offered it three portfolios- and the JVP had spurned it all, returning to violence. By mid-year Premadasa invited all parties to attend a Roundtable. Advised by Anton Balasingham and Gopalaswamy Mahendrarajah (‘Mahattaya’), the LTTE agreed and participated for tactical reasons, to gain time and space.
At the Nugegoda rally, the JVP declared it was not the LTTE and would not bend, and announced that it would fight on till victory. That was June or July 1989. In six months, the party that AKD now leads, had learned a lesson about being “politically stupid, moronic”.
He should not repeat the mistake of talking down to another Premadasa; especially not the only son of the Premadasa that AKD’s predecessors thought themselves superior to.
RECOLLECTIONS OF BLACK JULY 1983 ANURADHAPURA – AN OASIS OF PEACE
BY MAJ. GEN. (RTD) HARSHA GUNARATNE VSV
The so-called “Black July” riots of July 23, 1983, marked the culmination of a slow build- up of inter-communal violence over the years. Starting in 1956, going on to 1958 and growing in intensity by 1978, it saw the climax of this process in 1983.
Apart from the areas which were predominantly inhabited by the Tamil Community, almost the rest of the island was overwhelmed by the conflagration.
Anuradhapura District stood out as the one region that did not succumb to communal violence. Today, the then role of the Security Forces and the Civil Administration in Anuradhapura in successfully handling this crisis appears to have faded into the limbo of forgotten things.
The purpose of this narrative is two-fold. Firstly, to bring to notice the phenomenon of communal harmony that prevailed in one region, amidst the disturbing events of the time. Secondly, to show that in a Unitary State – there can be no other practicable constitutional arrangement- it is possible for all communities to live amicably if we only have the will to do so.
The morning of July 24, 1983, dawned bright and clear. I had returned home from Anuradhapura the evening before for an enjoyable weekend with my family, after a long stay there. I was the North Central Commander based in Anuradhapura.
While having my morning tea, I casually turned on the radio for the news. Then, I was astounded to hear the startling news that 13 soldiers had been ambushed and gunned down by terrorists at Neeravali Junction, Jaffna, the previous evening.
I immediately surmised, that this event boded ill for our Island and that Prabhakaran would succeed in orchestrating a stunning communal backlash – as intended – if immediate counter measures were not taken.
The District of Anuradhapura was my responsibility.
I therefore, packed my bags and left for Anuradhapura via Kurunegala within the hour. On the way I noticed people huddled in groups by the wayside talking in an animated manner. Their attitude and gestures confirmed my premonition that matters could soon get out of hand.
I reached Anuradhapura in double quick time and held a conference with my Detachment Commanders, the Police and the Civil Authorities. They all agreed on the need for immediate action to forestall trouble.
The Tamil population in Anuradhapura numbered a little over 5,000. Most were concentrated in the City and the rest scattered around. They were mostly traders and government officers. They could be easy prey to designing mischief makers within the District as well as elements infiltrating into the region. Kekirawa, had about 13 Tamil families – isolated and vulnerable.
Our intention was to ensure maximum normalcy in the region without resorting to the setting up of “Refugee Camps” or moving the Tamil population to safe havens outside the District.
Accordingly, the following measures were adopted for immediate activation.
Patrolling to commence immediately within the city and the outlying areas.
The three main approaches to the District i.e. Kekirawa, Kurunegala and Puttalam to be kept under round-the-clock surveillance by joint Army-Police teams. They were given clear orders to apprehend and to deal firmly with intruders.
Known trouble makers were summoned to the Police Stations in their respective localities and sternly warned against resorting to acts of mischief. They were also subjected to the closest surveillance by the Police.
Mobile patrols fanning out from the local Police Stations monitored progress and gave Situation Reports to my HQ at Anuradhapura.
The services of the local Gramodayas were harnessed to supplement the efforts of the Army and the Police. They enthusiastically, joined in organizing vigilance groups and kept a close watch on possible flash points.
The troops were addressed by their respective commanders and the gravity of the situation as well as the need to maintain the highest standards of discipline was impressed on them. The gist of this address was to point out that the killing of the soldiers was a matter to be dealt with professionally by the military and not by civilians killing civilians through outbursts of impotent rage. Such a reaction would in the long term be counter-productive and without a doubt disastrous.
On the evening of July 24, whilst our activities were under way, I was appointed Coordinating Officer for the North Central Province with full powers under the Emergency laws to ensure the peace. Since our plans were already in motion, keeping the peace caused no difficulties.
Eventually not a single Tamil was hurt in the entire District of Anuradhapura which continued to be a haven amidst the turmoil and carnage around.
Our success was mainly due to the enthusiastic cooperation of all the principal actors.
The District Minister, the late Chandra Bandara, in his enthusiasm, even tried to assume overall control of operations! I had to tactfully remind him that as the ultimate responsibility for maintaining law and order was entirely mine, I needed to exercise the necessary powers commensurate with that responsibility. He fully appreciated the position and gave me his fullest cooperation. He assured the Tamil government servants that they had no reason to fear for their safety or that they were being abandoned to lawless elements. He even occasionally accompanied me on patrols and was alert to keep me briefed on possible trouble spots.
The able Government Agent, the late T K Dissanayake, saw to the smooth functioning of the Civil Administration and gave all possible assistance to the Security Forces. He also ensured that the supply lines to the Province were running smoothly and that there was no dearth of food, grain or other essentials.
The police under SSP Sumanasekera were to me a tower of strength during this crisis.
On the personal side, my Staff Officer major – later Maj Gen Rtd – Vasantha Perera rendered yeoman service liaising with the Civil Authorities and coordinating arrangements.
My overall Commander Operations – later Maj. Gen – Vijay Wimalaratne, meticulously attended to all arrangements in the field and tirelessly monitored operations.
I have gone into detail about personalities because I feel that ours was a truly unique achievement which was solely due to their cooperation. There were no recalcitrant elements among them.
Our efforts at keeping Anuradhapura as a zone of communal harmony did not go unnoticed by either the media or the public.
I quote one excerpt from the editorial column of a principal daily newspaper – “the advance measures taken in Anuradhapura, a sensitive border area in terms of communal differences …….., the preventive action to preserve law and order, to protect the minorities, is deserving of study, of praise and of emulation.”
Finally, when I took leave of Anuradhapura shortly afterwards to assume duties as Commandant Military Academy Diyatalawa, a grateful public led by the District Minister, the Government Agent, the Police and other notables gave me a most moving send off.
This gesture remains firmly etched in my memory.
Whither or wither NGOs?
Not too long ago, a friend of mine observed that many if not most NGOs, in their quest for values such as transparency and reconciliation, embark on lavishly funded projects that target a broad audience, yet appeal to a narrow base.
Exhibitions at galleries in and around Colombo, discussions with foreign experts in Colombo hotels, and art, essay, and photography competitions: these, she pointed out to me, tend to leave out people who matter to those who want to achieve reconciliation and accountability. By doing so, NGOs not only alienate people, but also discredit themselves.
She then showed me an expensive, glossily laminated book that an agency had brought out to commemorate a particular event. Around 30 photographs, each revolving around a specific theme, incident, or person, stood out on the pages, and the accompanying text, simple, brief, and poetic, pointed out the significance of the event as perceived by a person: a hawker on one page, a distinguished filmmaker on another, and so on.
The publication obviously seemed worthy of the care and commitment its authors had put into it. Yet my friend questioned, rightly I think, whether such a project would mean anything to the country. While she did not come out with it vocally, what she wanted to say was that much money had been spent on a book which would reach very few.
The problem with NGOs – and I mean most of them, barring the occasional agency that serves its community – is their inability to go beyond their quarters. Many of them seem to believe that forums, discussions, and exhibitions can somehow compensate for their lack of presence in the world outside Colombo or other major cities.
If this had the effect of merely discrediting them in the eyes of the people who should matter to these agencies, there wouldn’t be an issue. But it has also had the effect of turning the people who matter away from the very values that the agencies advocate. One can’t blame them, because when you intellectualise reconciliation and projects which supposedly promote reconciliation, you distance yourself from a majority whose unfamiliarity with the language employed in those projects puts them off.
If you want to market these values, you have to market them to the people. While I’ve always believed that liberalism, the ideological prism through which these values are promoted if not marketed today, is largely a construct of 18th and 19th century European, bourgeois, white civilisation, this does not and should not discount the universality and timelessness of values such as human rights, transparency, and accountability. That these have been hijacked today and put in the service of a neoliberal agenda is another question altogether; that is a legacy of the Cold War, the end of history, and the clash of civilisations.
In other words, we should not fall under the illusion that because these are being touted in the interests of certain ideological interests, they should be discarded completely. To do so would be to assume that such values are alien to our civilisation. They are not.
Human rights, transparency, accountability, and reproductive rights are not, nor have they ever been, Eurocentric. Historical narratives and accounts tell us that long before cities emerged in Europe, long before Luther pinned those 95 theses on the Wittenberg Church, scholars and rulers from this side of the world were making important moral distinctions, going beyond the dual logic system that the West would later pioneer.
It would be more correct to think of freedom, individuality, responsibility, and fundamental rights as universal values refracted through particular ideological systems. For instance, Rupa Saparamadu in Sinhala Gehaniya argues that, prior to European colonialism, Sinhala women were treated quite well and certain inalienable rights were accorded to them.
I myself take issue with such a claim – Praveen Tilakaratne, responding to a piece by Senel Wanniarachchi on the image of the goddess Tara at the British Museum in which he makes a similar observation, also takes issue with that claim – but the point that such an argument could be made, and historical evidence be marshalled for it, obviously points to a narrative of rights, duties, and justice falling outside the matrix of Western civilisation.
The vexing question, then, is whether we must accept these values for what they intrinsically are or whether, given how they have been modified to suit Western ideological interests and preferred political outcomes, we should try to relate them to a worldview that differs from a Eurocentric perspective. Indeed, Iranian human rights activist and Nobel Peace Prize winner Shirin Ebadi has suggested that we view rights through cultural prisms.
The struggle to “universalise” these values and tenets must be taken from another angle also. For far too long, the human rights agenda, as it’s called, has been criticised, not unjustifiably, for being not only Eurocentric and white but also middle class and elitist. In other words, they are seen as the preserve of English speaking upper or upper middle class society, a point that has more often than not been borne out by the reality; a glance at some of the big names in NGO society will make it clear that agencies tend to operate through cocktail circuits rather than tangible, live encounters with people. Naturally this should not be the case, though it is: from the choice of officials for agencies to the language they employ in their press releases, they project distance from rather than proximity to the people.
I realise the dilemma that these NGOs are caught in. Agencies rely on donors and donors can only give once certain criteria are met. Forgetting for the moment the vexing, debatable issue of whether donors set certain agendas that are detrimental to national interests – a moot point which I think deserves further analysis and assessment – the truth is that agencies are, not a little ironically, as bureaucratised as government departments, if in a less discernible way.
As such policies tend to be ironed out by top officials, then reinterpreted by the rank and file of the organisation, policy is filtered through many layers, making consistency impossible. As the scholar Anna Ohanyan (2009) has noted, donors tend to “capture” NGOs and deny them both organisational autonomy, an issue exacerbated by the entrenchment of the NGO sector in the developing world in the face of weak, authoritarian regimes.
In fact, it is when the public sector is on the verge of collapse and the State veers towards authoritarianism that donors focus their attention on NGOs. This trend is hardly specific to Sri Lanka, yet it is a phenomenon prevalent in countries like ours that fluctuate between long periods of authoritarianism and brief periods of neoliberal reform. That, moreover, is not the case all the time: NGOs may flourish at times of authoritarianism and censorship since it can “market” the need for large funds, but it can also erode in such periods.
On the other hand, while donors may be willing to fund agencies during a transitioning from right wing authoritarianism to neoliberal reform, once the transition is made, or is assumed to have been made, they may exit the industry since, frankly, there’s no further need for them. A random visit to one or two offices of the most prominent agencies here will make clear how lack of funds has left the sector impoverished, especially in the wake of the post-2015 wave of neoliberal reforms that swept through the country and penetrated the State.
The fluctuating fortunes of NGOs deserve scrutiny. It’s certainly a paradoxical world out there, one which a seasoned academic, devoid of a bias for or against such agencies, must undertake to study. On the other hand, the universality of values that these agencies espouse must not and cannot be denied. To fit them in the larger cultural mould we come out of, to relate them to people whose conception of individuality is different from how the West’s, is to embark on an endeavour far removed from the cocktail circuits of local NGOs.
My critique of NGO led civil society thus is that we have allowed a certain group to dominate the conversation, letting them decide which issues are “larger causes” and which are not. By giving this clique carte blanche, we have let them do what they want, and what they please, on behalf of “us” or “the rest of us.” The need here, then, is to reform civil society. Unless we do this, all we will get out of reconciliation will be laminated coffee table books that mean nothing to people who matter. Reform within NGOs, by NGOs and not the state, is therefore an imperative need of the hour. It cannot wait, and it should not be delayed.
The writer can be reached at email@example.com
Hemas collect discarded carbon pens, toothbrushes from schools
Altair on track
A cheering campaign to support Team Sri Lanka at TOKYO 2020
7-billion-rupee diamond heist; Madush splls the beans before being shot
The Burghers of Ceylon/Sri Lanka- Reminiscences and Anecdotes
Unfit, unprofessional, fat Sri Lankans
Sports7 days ago
Features6 days ago
Dual citizens; shocking rape cases going unpunished
Sports5 days ago
Sri Lanka’s contingent prior to the opening ceremony
Life style4 days ago
Durian prevent cancer and improve digestion
Features4 days ago
Kumar David at 80: Engineer, Scholar, Socialist
Sports3 days ago
Killi Rajamahendran, Kerry Packer of Sri Lankan cricket
Sports4 days ago
What you can learn from Sidath
Features6 days ago
How rebirth takes place