Connect with us

Features

The shadow of executive presidency: How excessive centralised power weakens universities

Published

on

By Shamala Kumar

How our universities respond during moments of crisis, whether a pandemic or an economic meltdown, is emblematic of the rotten political system in which they function. The apparent lack of sensitivity to students’ struggles, during COVID-19, was astounding. We knew, personally, that students grappled with a range of problems, from crippling debt, to connectivity issues, to family illness. We were aware also of the pressure placed on us by university administrations to transition to online delivery systems, imposed through not-so-veiled threats that the government was watching us, even when the vast majority of students did not possess even a laptop. Resisting such pressures seemed futile then.

My frustrations, at the time, were directed at our institutional structures and their inability to resist the directives coming from above. Within our own circles, we discussed the wheeling and dealing that was happening in spaces we were not privileged enough to occupy; parallel charges of backroom deals and disingenuity in those holding authority come today from the Aragalaya movement. This maneuvering is not limited to our universities, but is, in fact, how our institutions, and the broader political system, work. This is what makes them incapable of responding to the needs of students or the public. Whether at the university level, or the national level, these problems stem from an excess of power concentrated at the apex, epitomized by the Executive Presidency.

Errant Vice Chancellors

To illustrate, I will use two controversial decisions, regarding the Vice Chancellor (VC) positions at two universities, from the recent past. The Universities Act No. 16 of 1978 gives the ultimate authority for appointing VCs, and their removal, to the President. The appointment, this year, of the new VC, to the University of Colombo, demonstrates how these powers are enacted in the university system.

In April, 2022, the incumbent VC, Professor Chandrika Wijeyaratne’s appointment, was not renewed, and, instead, a candidate, who is currently close to the Viyathmaga group, was appointed. The appointment led to much publicity and a spate of resignations from the University Council. According to an article in the Sunday Times, Prof. Wijeyaratne had resisted political pressures to grant degrees to politically-connected individuals, and also opposed efforts by the Urban Development Authority to take over land belonging to the University. Perhaps the widely circulated video would not have helped, of the VC handing over degrees at the convocation, when students refused to accept their awards from the Chancellor (whose appointment they objected to as being purely political). The President must have viewed her actions as challenging his authority. But should this have mattered?

Prof. Wijeyaratne stated, as quoted in the same article, that her vacancy was announced earlier than typical, when she still had some time left in her term, because “they wanted to destabilise the end of my term by displaying that I wouldn’t be in authority for much longer”. She went on to observe, regarding the Council, “As more people resign, more political pawns will replace them…,” indicating the extent of plotting and scheming that goes on backstage when making appointments to the University’s highest decision-making body.

Prof. Ratnam Vigneswaran was dismissed from his post, as VC of the University of Jaffna, in 2019. Subsequent to a Supreme Court case filed by Prof. Vigneswaran, it came to light that his dismissal was linked to his attendance at the unveiling of a new Pongu Tamil memorial plaque in the university premises. This incident had caught the attention of the military, who reported it to the UGC and the Ministry of Higher Education, and with the support of a faction of the university community, the VC was dismissed without any form of inquiry. In an article published in the Colombo Telegraph (September 14, 2019) shortly after, a group of academics from the University of Jaffna wrote that the dismissal was “a politically motivated, authoritarian decision reeking of majoritarianism, made at the instigation of the military”.

Power arrangements

Both these cases demonstrate the precariousness of political appointments. They also indicate the extent to which the appointees must ensure that those at the top of the political hierarchy are satisfied, if they are to remain in power. To ensure that VCs remain favoured by the regime, they too must consolidate adequate power to run universities as prescribed from above. It is not unusual to hear of VCs who rule with an iron grip or through the formation of political alliances and deals with segments of staff and students.

Universities, coming under the Universities Act, however, are designed to operate, according to a very different governance structure that places decision making in the hands of several bodies; the vestiges of that structure remain. For academic decisions, for instance, the University Senate has ultimate authority and must work closely with the Faculty Boards of each Faculty. Committees at faculty and university level facilitate the running of the university. In other words, the power to make decisions is shared among the academic staff, although even within these bodies senior staff hold substantial authority.

For the VC to function, as per the expectations of a particular regime, difficulties of any sort, such as with programme delivery, “quality” assurance, funding, ragging and sexual harassment, and even student participation in the Aragalaya, if it should displease those above, can mean that their position is under threat, particularly if the regime has authoritarian tendencies. Consider then whether those holding power, within the university system, can truly afford to address ragging, when the reaction to such efforts could result in university closure and bad publicity to the university? Can VCs demand funds to run the university’s programmes without jeopardizing their claim to their position?

For their survival then, especially those whose positions were awarded on political grounds, VCs must ensure that university committees are constituted by individuals who understand the circumstances and will be loyal to them. Those with a passion to address problems may actually be a threat as their motives and actions could be at cross purposes with those at the centre of power. VCs and their acolytes must ensure that decisions made in bodies, such as the Senate, are palatable to those in power, using whatever means possible – hence the backroom deals. One mechanism that has greatly facilitated this process is the formation of internal quality assurance councils (IQAC) in universities, which wield substantial power in formulating policies and monitoring university systems. The IQACs are far closer to the centres of university power than the Faculty Boards and Senates, and are stacked with persons who are “loyal” to the VCs.

Compliance and resistance

The significance of the political appointment of the VC, and the authority the President has to dismiss the appointee, have far reaching consequences within universities. Political considerations that may conflict with one’s job are not restricted to the VC alone. This system reproduces itself at multiple levels, breeding acolytes in various camps, some closer to the Regime than others. Many staff members benefit from patronage; sought after positions, perks, opportunities to represent the country, etc., may depend on staying in the good graces of the Regime.

The consequence of this relationship between universities and the Executive is the ultimate weakening of our institutional structures. Submitting to the powers that be often requires circumventing established procedures and institutional mechanisms for decision making, to ensure that uncomfortable questions are not raised by “troublemakers”. This could also mean neglecting or deprioritizing our responsibilities to students, which is partly why universities seemed immune to the fears and anxieties of students during the pandemic. Even at this moment, when our students are targeted as part of the government’s effort to crackdown on dissent, university administrations remain silent.

Today, as we call for the abolishing of the Executive Presidency, I realise that the effects of such change, along with other measures to democratize governance, will be far reaching. Not only will the Parliament be transformed; if done correctly, our fragile, floundering institutions will be resuscitated. As many speak of the Aragalaya as a distant place in Galle Face, separate from our everyday lives, I see it far closer to me, in everything I do and in everything I love. Aragalayata Jaya Wewa! Poraattam Vettri Kaanum!

(The author teaches 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.



Continue Reading
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Features

Rebuilding the country requires consultation

Published

on

A positive feature of the government that is emerging is its responsiveness to public opinion. The manner in which it has been responding to the furore over the Grade 6 English Reader, in which a weblink to a gay dating site was inserted, has been constructive. Government leaders have taken pains to explain the mishap and reassure everyone concerned that it was not meant to be there and would be removed. They have been meeting religious prelates, educationists and community leaders. In a context where public trust in institutions has been badly eroded over many years, such responsiveness matters. It signals that the government sees itself as accountable to society, including to parents, teachers, and those concerned about the values transmitted through the school system.

This incident also appears to have strengthened unity within the government. The attempt by some opposition politicians and gender misogynists to pin responsibility for this lapse on Prime Minister Dr Harini Amarasuriya, who is also the Minister of Education, has prompted other senior members of the government to come to her defence. This is contrary to speculation that the powerful JVP component of the government is unhappy with the prime minister. More importantly, it demonstrates an understanding within the government that individual ministers should not be scapegoated for systemic shortcomings. Effective governance depends on collective responsibility and solidarity within the leadership, especially during moments of public controversy.

The continuing important role of the prime minister in the government is evident in her meetings with international dignitaries and also in addressing the general public. Last week she chaired the inaugural meeting of the Presidential Task Force to Rebuild Sri Lanka in the aftermath of Cyclone Ditwah. The composition of the task force once again reflects the responsiveness of the government to public opinion. Unlike previous mechanisms set up by governments, which were either all male or without ethnic minority representation, this one includes both, and also includes civil society representation. Decision-making bodies in which there is diversity are more likely to command public legitimacy.

Task Force

The Presidential Task Force to Rebuild Sri Lanka overlooks eight committees to manage different aspects of the recovery, each headed by a sector minister. These committees will focus on Needs Assessment, Restoration of Public Infrastructure, Housing, Local Economies and Livelihoods, Social Infrastructure, Finance and Funding, Data and Information Systems, and Public Communication. This structure appears comprehensive and well designed. However, experience from post-disaster reconstruction in countries such as Indonesia and Sri Lanka after the 2004 tsunami suggests that institutional design alone does not guarantee success. What matters equally is how far these committees engage with those on the ground and remain open to feedback that may complicate, slow down, or even challenge initial plans.

An option that the task force might wish to consider is to develop a linkage with civil society groups with expertise in the areas that the task force is expected to work. The CSO Collective for Emergency Relief has set up several committees that could be linked to the committees supervised by the task force. Such linkages would not weaken the government’s authority but strengthen it by grounding policy in lived realities. Recent findings emphasise the idea of “co-production”, where state and society jointly shape solutions in which sustainable outcomes often emerge when communities are treated not as passive beneficiaries but as partners in problem-solving.

Cyclone Ditwah destroyed more than physical infrastructure. It also destroyed communities. Some were swallowed by landslides and floods, while many others will need to be moved from their homes as they live in areas vulnerable to future disasters. The trauma of displacement is not merely material but social and psychological. Moving communities to new locations requires careful planning. It is not simply a matter of providing people with houses. They need to be relocated to locations and in a manner that permits communities to live together and to have livelihoods. This will require consultation with those who are displaced. Post-disaster evaluations have acknowledged that relocation schemes imposed without community consent often fail, leading to abandonment of new settlements or the emergence of new forms of marginalisation. Even today, abandoned tsunami housing is to be seen in various places that were affected by the 2004 tsunami.

Malaiyaha Tamils

The large-scale reconstruction that needs to take place in parts of the country most severely affected by Cyclone Ditwah also brings an opportunity to deal with the special problems of the Malaiyaha Tamil population. These are people of recent Indian origin who were unjustly treated at the time of Independence and denied rights of citizenship such as land ownership and the vote. This has been a festering problem and a blot on the conscience of the country. The need to resettle people living in those parts of the hill country which are vulnerable to landslides is an opportunity to do justice by the Malaiyaha Tamil community. Technocratic solutions such as high-rise apartments or English-style townhouses that have or are being contemplated may be cost-effective, but may also be culturally inappropriate and socially disruptive. The task is not simply to build houses but to rebuild communities.

The resettlement of people who have lost their homes and communities requires consultation with them. In the same manner, the education reform programme, of which the textbook controversy is only a small part, too needs to be discussed with concerned stakeholders including school teachers and university faculty. Opening up for discussion does not mean giving up one’s own position or values. Rather, it means recognising that better solutions emerge when different perspectives are heard and negotiated. Consultation takes time and can be frustrating, particularly in contexts of crisis where pressure for quick results is intense. However, solutions developed with stakeholder participation are more resilient and less costly in the long run.

Rebuilding after Cyclone Ditwah, addressing historical injustices faced by the Malaiyaha Tamil community, advancing education reform, changing the electoral system to hold provincial elections without further delay and other challenges facing the government, including national reconciliation, all require dialogue across differences and patience with disagreement. Opening up for discussion is not to give up on one’s own position or values, but to listen, to learn, and to arrive at solutions that have wider acceptance. Consultation needs to be treated as an investment in sustainability and legitimacy and not as an obstacle to rapid decisionmaking. Addressing the problems together, especially engagement with affected parties and those who work with them, offers the best chance of rebuilding not only physical infrastructure but also trust between the government and people in the year ahead.

 

by Jehan Perera

Continue Reading

Features

PSTA: Terrorism without terror continues

Published

on

When the government appointed a committee, led by Rienzie Arsekularatne, Senior President’s Counsel, to draft a new law to replace the Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA), as promised by the ruling NPP, the writer, in an article published in this journal in July 2025, expressed optimism that, given Arsekularatne’s experience in criminal justice, he would be able to address issues from the perspectives of the State, criminal justice, human rights, suspects, accused, activists, and victims. The draft Protection of the State from Terrorism Act (PSTA), produced by the Committee, has been sharply criticised by individuals and organisations who expected a better outcome that aligns with modern criminal justice and human rights principles.

This article is limited to a discussion of the definition of terrorism. As the writer explained previously, the dangers of an overly broad definition go beyond conviction and increased punishment. Special laws on terrorism allow deviations from standard laws in areas such as preventive detention, arrest, administrative detention, restrictions on judicial decisions regarding bail, lengthy pre-trial detention, the use of confessions, superadded punishments, such as confiscation of property and cancellation of professional licences, banning organisations, and restrictions on publications, among others. The misuse of such laws is not uncommon. Drastic legislation, such as the PTA and emergency regulations, although intended to be used to curb intense violence and deal with emergencies, has been exploited to suppress political opposition.

 

International Standards

The writer’s basic premise is that, for an act to come within the definition of terrorism, it must either involve “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” or be committed to achieve an objective of an individual or organisation that uses “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” to realise its aims. The UN General Assembly has accepted that the threshold for a possible general offence of terrorism is the provocation of “a state of terror” (Resolution 60/43). The Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe has taken a similar view, using the phrase “to create a climate of terror.”

In his 2023 report on the implementation of the UN Global Counter-Terrorism Strategy, the Secretary-General warned that vague and overly broad definitions of terrorism in domestic law, often lacking adequate safeguards, violate the principle of legality under international human rights law. He noted that such laws lead to heavy-handed, ineffective, and counterproductive counter-terrorism practices and are frequently misused to target civil society actors and human rights defenders by labelling them as terrorists to obstruct their work.

The United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) has stressed in its Handbook on Criminal Justice Responses to Terrorism that definitions of terrorist acts must use precise and unambiguous language, narrowly define punishable conduct and clearly distinguish it from non-punishable behaviour or offences subject to other penalties. The handbook was developed over several months by a team of international experts, including the writer, and was finalised at a workshop in Vienna.

 

Anti-Terrorism Bill, 2023

A five-member Bench of the Supreme Court that examined the Anti-Terrorism Bill, 2023, agreed with the petitioners that the definition of terrorism in the Bill was too broad and infringed Article 12(1) of the Constitution, and recommended that an exemption (“carve out”) similar to that used in New Zealand under which “the fact that a person engages in any protest, advocacy, or dissent, or engages in any strike, lockout, or other industrial action, is not, by itself, a sufficient basis for inferring that the person” committed the wrongful acts that would otherwise constitute terrorism.

While recognising the Court’s finding that the definition was too broad, the writer argued, in his previous article, that the political, administrative, and law enforcement cultures of the country concerned are crucial factors to consider. Countries such as New Zealand are well ahead of developing nations, where the risk of misuse is higher, and, therefore, definitions should be narrower, with broader and more precise exemptions. How such a “carve out” would play out in practice is uncertain.

In the Supreme Court, it was submitted that for an act to constitute an offence, under a special law on terrorism, there must be terror unleashed in the commission of the act, or it must be carried out in pursuance of the object of an organisation that uses terror to achieve its objectives. In general, only acts that aim at creating “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” should come under the definition of terrorism. There can be terrorism-related acts without violence, for example, when a member of an extremist organisation remotely sabotages an electronic, automated or computerised system in pursuance of the organisation’s goal. But when the same act is committed by, say, a whizz-kid without such a connection, that would be illegal and should be punished, but not under a special law on terrorism. In its determination of the Bill, the Court did not address this submission.

 

PSTA Proposal

Proposed section 3(1) of the PSTA reads:

Any person who, intentionally or knowingly, commits any act which causes a consequence specified in subsection (2), for the purpose of-

(a) provoking a state of terror;

(b) intimidating the public or any section of the public;

(c) compelling the Government of Sri Lanka, or any other Government, or an international organisation, to do or to abstain from doing any act; or

(d) propagating war, or violating territorial integrity or infringing the sovereignty of Sri Lanka or any other sovereign country, commits the offence of terrorism.

The consequences listed in sub-section (2) include: death; hurt; hostage-taking; abduction or kidnapping; serious damage to any place of public use, any public property, any public or private transportation system or any infrastructure facility or environment; robbery, extortion or theft of public or private property; serious risk to the health and safety of the public or a section of the public; serious obstruction or damage to, or interference with, any electronic or automated or computerised system or network or cyber environment of domains assigned to, or websites registered with such domains assigned to Sri Lanka; destruction of, or serious damage to, religious or cultural property; serious obstruction or damage to, or interference with any electronic, analogue, digital or other wire-linked or wireless transmission system, including signal transmission and any other frequency-based transmission system; without lawful authority, importing, exporting, manufacturing, collecting, obtaining, supplying, trafficking, possessing or using firearms, offensive weapons, ammunition, explosives, articles or things used in the manufacture of explosives or combustible or corrosive substances and biological, chemical, electric, electronic or nuclear weapons, other nuclear explosive devices, nuclear material, radioactive substances, or radiation-emitting devices.

Under section 3(5), “any person who commits an act which constitutes an offence under the nine international treaties on terrorism, ratified by Sri Lanka, also commits the offence of terrorism.” No one would contest that.

The New Zealand “carve-out” is found in sub-section (4): “The fact that a person engages in any protest, advocacy or dissent or engages in any strike, lockout or other industrial action, is not by itself a sufficient basis for inferring that such person (a) commits or attempts, abets, conspires, or prepares to commit the act with the intention or knowledge specified in subsection (1); or (b) is intending to cause or knowingly causes an outcome specified in subsection (2).”

While the Arsekularatne Committee has proposed, including the New Zealand “carve out”, it has ignored a crucial qualification in section 5(2) of that country’s Terrorism Suppression Act, that for an act to be considered a terrorist act, it must be carried out for one or more purposes that are or include advancing “an ideological, political, or religious cause”, with the intention of either intimidating a population or coercing or forcing a government or an international organisation to do or abstain from doing any act.

When the Committee was appointed, the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka opined that any new offence with respect to “terrorism” should contain a specific and narrow definition of terrorism, such as the following: “Any person who by the use of force or violence unlawfully targets the civilian population or a segment of the civilian population with the intent to spread fear among such population or segment thereof in furtherance of a political, ideological, or religious cause commits the offence of terrorism”.

The writer submits that, rather than bringing in the requirement of “a political, ideological, or religious cause”, it would be prudent to qualify proposed section 3(1) by the requirement that only acts that aim at creating “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” or are carried out to achieve a goal of an individual or organisation that employs “terror” or a “state of intense or overwhelming fear” to attain its objectives should come under the definition of terrorism. Such a threshold is recognised internationally; no “carve out” is then needed, and the concerns of the Human Rights Commission would also be addressed.

 

by Dr. Jayampathy Wickramaratne
President’s Counsel

Continue Reading

Features

ROCK meets REGGAE 2026

Published

on

JAYASRI: From Vienna, Austria

We generally have in our midst the famous JAYASRI twins, Rohitha and Rohan, who are based in Austria but make it a point to entertain their fans in Sri Lanka on a regular basis.

Well, rock and reggae fans get ready for a major happening on 28th February (Oops, a special day where I’m concerned!) as the much-awaited ROCK meets REGGAE event booms into action at the Nelum Pokuna outdoor theatre.

It was seven years ago, in 2019, that the last ROCK meets REGGAE concert was held in Colombo, and then the Covid scene cropped up.

Chitral Somapala with BLACK MAJESTY

This year’s event will feature our rock star Chitral Somapala with the Australian Rock+Metal band BLACK MAJESTY, and the reggae twins Rohitha and Rohan Jayalath with the original JAYASRI – the full band, with seven members from Vienna, Austria.

According to Rohitha, the JAYASRI outfit is enthusiastically looking forward to entertaining music lovers here with their brand of music.

Their playlist for 28th February will consist of the songs they do at festivals in Europe, as well as originals, and also English and Sinhala hits, and selected covers.

Says Rohitha: “We have put up a great team, here in Sri Lanka, to give this event an international setting and maintain high standards, and this will be a great experience for our Sri Lankan music lovers … not only for Rock and Reggae fans. Yes, there will be some opening acts, and many surprises, as well.”

Rohitha, Chitral and Rohan: Big scene at ROCK meets REGGAE

Rohitha and Rohan also conveyed their love and festive blessings to everyone in Sri Lanka, stating “This Christmas was different as our country faced a catastrophic situation and, indeed, it’s a great time to help and share the real love of Jesus Christ by helping the poor, the needy and the homeless people. Let’s RISE UP as a great nation in 2026.”

Continue Reading

Trending