Midweek Review

Whither the humanities and social sciences in the universities in Sri Lanka? – A short essay

Published

2 years ago

2022/02/16

By Prof. Susirith Mendis
Former Vice-Chancellor
University of Ruhuna.
(susmend2610@gmail.com)

I read with much interest, the article by Prof. Farzana Haniffa, Professor and Head, Department of Sociology, University of Colombo, titled ‘Undervaluing Social Science and Humanities teaching in the Sri Lankan University System’ which appeared in ‘The Island’ of 1st February 2022. I understand the predicament she talks about. In that article, Prof. Haniffa alleges that “there is very little recognition or acceptance of the kind of knowledge the H and SS can bring to the table at the level of the UGC mediated Quality Assurance process.” The good professor goes on to describe the diminished role and acceptance of the H and SS in the quality assurance process within our university community. Whereas I agree that there is a need to take immediate cognizance of the need of a large role for H and SS in those processes, I feel that this disregard has deeper and fundamental dimensions.

Hence, I thought it pertinent to submit this article which I wrote for a Prof. Vinnie Vitharana Felicitation volume that was published by the Department of Sinhala, University of Ruhuna. I am submittiing an appropriately re-written version to ‘The Island’ in response.

What I write here is likely to be controversial and may provoke those in the Arts, Humanities and Social Sciences faculties to disagree with some of the thoughts and, perhaps, some suggestions that I make herein.

When one writes on the humanities in the universities, it is imperative that we use some comparative measure. To my mind, without doubt, the ‘Gold Standard’ in this regard is the University of Peradeniya Faculty of Arts (then, the University of Ceylon). Among the great academics who walked tall down the corridors of Peradeniya was the intellectual colossus of that time, Professor Ediriweera Sarachchandra, who gave real meaning to the Sinhala cultural revival of 1956.

Their students kept their ‘flame inviolate’. Professors, Leslie Gunawardene, KM de Silva, KNO Dharmadasa, Ashley Halpe, Merlin Peiris, K. Sivathamby and Ralph Peiris are some names that readily come to mind. They epitomised and represented the highest traditions of academics of post-independent Sri Lanka. Learned and cultured, many had excellent bilingual skills and were exacting in the quality and standards they expected of university academics.

Let me pose some questions. They will remain unanswered in this essay simply because the answers must necessarily lie in extensive and in-depth socio-anthropological research. I am a medical academic with not the slightest pretense to such capability.

Can we truthfully say that the situation improved thereafter? Were the academic qualities and standards maintained thereafter? Were the next generation of academics and scholars able to fit into their shoes once they departed the scene? There are a few exceptions, I agree. But we know that exceptions make the rule. And the rule is that the new generation has not made themselves accomplished as creative intellectuals in the genre and quality of their predecessors. Is there a formula to turnout ‘creative intellectuals’? If so, have we lost the formula?

Was the socio-political upheaval of 1956 itself to blame for this? Did we produce an inward-looking, insular, narrowly nationalistic intellectual class? Especially in the humanities? Or is the present unsatisfactory situation arising out of other causations?

Would some academics argue that the ‘nativisation’ of the intellectual and the academic, post’56, is in itself a positive outcome; that the pre-’56 intellectuals were the remnants of the British ruling class – the “Pukka Sahibs”; whereas the ‘children of 56’ are the true inheritors of the earth, born of earth, sons (and daughters) of the soil, nurtured by the cultural founts and milieu of indigenous Sri Lankan traditions?

One is reminded of the famous statement of the Black-Algerian political theorist, psychoanalyst and revolutionary-philosopher, Frantz Fanon (1925-1961) in his celebrated book “The Wretched of the Earth”. Referring to the elites of post-World War II, post-independent, post-colonial nations, he wrote that they use “glutinous words that stick to their teeth”. The sub-title of the book is more descriptive and intended – “A Negro Psychoanalyst’s Study of the Problems of Racism and Colonialism in the World Today”. Fanon argued that language has a role in moulding the attitudes of “natives”, particularly those victimised by colonisation. He believed that the language that the colonials taught us made us really incoherent when describing our socio-cultural and political predicaments. Almost saying that we spoke in a language, the real meaning of which we ourselves did not clearly understand. Or we were merely mouthing words of our colonial masters. So were our last generation of pre-independent, pre-’56 intellectuals, elites as Fanon describes them? Or are we now living in an era where the thoughts and words of Fanon and like-minded intellectuals have become irrelevant?

It might be opportune at this point in my essay to cite two Sri Lankans (intellectuals in their own right) that may give some insight to the current dilemma and predicament of the Humanities and Social Sciences. These are anecdotal, but since they were said in my presence, though not directly to me, I vouch for their veracity.

The first is during the time I spent (1980-83) as Lecturer in Physiology at the Faculty of Medicine, Peradeniya. I was more at the Medical Education Unit (MEU) there, than the Department of Physiology, as it was a WHO Regional Training Centre in Medical Education and had many medical academics from South Asian countries visiting regularly. One regular visitor to the MEU was Prof. Thiru Kandiah (then Senior lecturer). Talking about the lack of originality of thought and hence academic creativity, Prof. Thiru Kandiah said (a quote from memory) “… Until our intellectuals begin thinking in their own native language (Sinhala and Tamil), we will not generate original thoughts that are essential for genuinely creative knowledge.” When I reminded him of this statement when I met him after a lapse of nearly 30 years, he could not quite remember that he said it. Neither did he say that he agrees with that thought. Perhaps, he had changed his mind about such a concept in the intervening years. I did not ask him whether he had. But taking it in the context of what Fanon wrote in 1961, this is a concept that needs to be debated by academic psychologists, linguists, anthropologists and other social scientists. But, if this theory is correct, since we now have academics who are mostly monolingual in academic accomplishments and training, and therefore they are likely to be ‘thinking’ in their own language, there has to be a gush of academic writings and publications that are truly creative. Is there?

The second is a chance conversation that I was party to during a tea break at a conference in Colombo. Prof. Chris Weeramantry was the keynote speaker. Again, on the subject of intellectual creativity, he observed that in the Sciences, which are based on the Western, Judeo-Christian, and Graeco-Roman traditions that we know today as the Western Philosophical Tradition, we will hardly, if ever, be creative. We will continue to mimic the West most often and if ever we become creative in the sciences, at best, they will be extremely marginal. He further said that we have real contributions to make to the world of knowledge in the humanities and law. Humanities, because our indigenous cultures and value systems are based on the Eastern Philosophical Tradition and in Law we have a very long legal tradition based on Buddhist Ethics. Do you agree?

Therefore, we should have had a great flowering of creative intellectual activity emanating from the humanities and social sciences and the law. Unfortunately, with a few exceptions, we have not seen such creativity. Large numbers of academics in the humanities and social sciences, due to their limited language competencies have a limited world view. Generation of new knowledge requires an open and expansive mind set that can be acquired only through widening one’s experience directly or through extensive reading – particularly, readings from other experiences and cultures. I have observed that there is a resurgence in the translations of classics from English, Russian, German and French literature into Sinhala.

There are, but less so, even from the Japanese, Chinese and Korean. Are these truly quality works of translation? What is the readership? Have these had any impact on the ‘intellectual creativity of monolingual academics? If not, why?

Has the neo-liberal economics that pervade the globe affected the creativity in the humanities and the arts? Is globalization somehow responsible? Have our ‘thinkers’ who have no financial/economic value in the marketplace been replaced by commercial interests? Why have academics and intellectuals succumbed to the marketplace without much resistance? Not physical, but intellectual? Why is there no debate, as one would have expected, on whether education is a public good or a marketable commodity? Is it because our intellectual critical mass has so declined that the remaining cannot make the difference? Is this not due to the decline in the quality and standard of our academia in the Humanities and Social Sciences?

In my view, there is an intellectual/academic crisis in the areas of the humanities and social sciences in all universities in Sri Lanka at present. Though it is, perhaps, least in the University of Peradeniya, the situation has gone beyond the limits of complacency. I use a medical analogy to describe a university. The sciences – medicine, engineering, agriculture, applied and pure Sciences – form the bones, sinew and muscles and blood that runs in the veins of a university. The humanities and the arts must provide the ‘spirit’, the ‘soul’ of a university. This was how the Peradeniya Faculty of Arts played its true role in its best years. That is why it was a fount of creativity in its early years and the pride of our university system.

The Harvard Magazine in its 1998 issue (nearly 25 years ago), has an article titled ‘The Humanities at Harvard: A Profile’. The article commences with the following which I quote:

“For nearly two centuries, learning at Harvard largely meant learning in the humanities. Other fields were taught–mathematics, for instance, and, increasingly in the nineteenth century, natural science and the emerging social sciences. With foresight, Harvard often led the change away from higher education centered almost exclusively in humanistic pursuits. But the humanistic tradition remains vital.”

Later, it goes on to say:

“Although Harvard undergraduates in the humanities are heard to worry about the relevance and ‘utility’ of their studies for the purpose of later employment, no statistical evidence indicates that Harvard-minted humanists have a tougher time later in the job markets, or that they become any less successful than their peers.”

Though the registration of students for the humanities has fallen, and the demand is less compared with other professional study programmes, the fact that Harvard considers the humanistic tradition as vital, is noteworthy.

The online Harvard Business Review (31 March 2011) has this article titled ‘Want innovative thinking? Hire from the Humanities’ which is necessary reading for those in want of a justification for the persistence of humanities education in the universities. I will quote from it at length:

“How many people in your organization are innovative thinkers who can help with your thorniest strategy problems? How many have a keen understanding of customer needs? … There are plenty of MBAs and even PhDs in economics, chemistry, or computer science, in the corporate ranks. Intellectual wattage is not lacking. It’s the right intellectual wattage that’s hard to find… This is because our educational systems focus on teaching science and business students to control, predict, verify, guarantee, and test data. It doesn’t teach how to navigate “what if” questions or unknown futures…The knowledge I use as CEO can be acquired in two weeks…he main thing a student needs to be taught is how to study and analyse things (including) history and philosophy. People trained in the humanities who study Shakespeare’s poetry, or Cezanne’s paintings, (for instance) have learned to play with big concepts, and to apply new ways of thinking to difficult problems that can’t be analyzed in conventional ways.”

The author goes on to say that the ‘liberal arts crowd’ can help when (i) there is ambiguity and complexity in business problems – both opportunities and threats – that the usual logical thinking cannot solve; (ii) where what is needed in innovation and ‘out of the box’ thinking; and (iii) when looking at the ‘big picture’. The author further says that a case in point is “….., who openly acknowledged how studying the beautiful art of calligraphy led him to design the Macintosh interface.”

Can Professor Haniffa tell us whether she and her department prepare students to be graduates who can fill in roles that the CEO above talks about? Forgive me, if I think that it is mostly unlikely except for may be – a significant few.

Unlike in Sri Lanka, the study of the humanities has been included into the sciences, including medicine. The Yale School of Medicine, for instance, has a Medical Humanities and the Arts Council based at the medical school. Based at the School of Medicine, the Council is an advocate for the medical humanities and the arts, encouraging and coordinating rigorous scholarship in these areas, including medical student research.

We did make attempts to do so at the Faculty of Medicine at Ruhuna, but it has gone into abeyance and a natural death, I think, due to a lack of interest. But, fortunately, the Colombo Medical School has recently established a Department of Medical Humanities and is doing, in my view, critically important pioneering work towards producing better, thinking, and more humanistic doctors.

The University of Cambridge, School of the Humanities and Social Sciences in its website proudly announced a few years ago that “outstanding graduates from across the world want to study the Humanities and Social Sciences at Cambridge, and the School wants to take them.” The Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, Professor Sir Leszek Borysiewicz had announced the creation of a £300,000 fund to be awarded to Cambridge University researchers in the arts, humanities and social sciences.

In Sri Lanka, the Ministry of Higher Education had committed about a decade ago, Rs. 100 million each year for the next five years to take six universities to international status. Together with the offers of financial support to the humanities and social sciences faculty academics to pursue doctoral studies, this is a golden opportunity for the academics in the humanities and social sciences to grasp with both hands. I wonder whether the scheme is still on.

Unfortunately, in Sri Lanka, there is negative thinking at the present time that the learning of the humanities is a waste of time. Its graduates have no future in obtaining gainful employment and therefore the humanities must be replaced with ‘marketable’ degree programmes. Modules and courses in computer science and IT is beginning to be included in the humanities curricular to make ‘arts graduates’ more marketable. Why have we reached this viewpoint? I believe that the academics in the humanities must accept a large part of the blame. The faculties of Humanities and Social Sciences and the Arts in our universities have not equipped themselves to meet the challenges of the present and the future. This must change, and change for the better, radically and very soon.

We need a more vibrant academic faculty in the humanities and social sciences; (i) a faculty that is grappling with the current social-political issues; (ii) academics that can develop new analytical tools and frames to dissect not only socio-cultural and political issues, but existential, ethical and philosophical issues as well; (iii) development of quality research programmes to search for answers to the Sri Lankan experiences in a post-conflict situation; (iv) look for explanations for the socio-cultural bases of violence in our society; (v) create a academic framework for a more responsible and intellectually responsive media culture; and (vi) build interdisciplinary degree programmes and research projects with the science and legal disciplines. These are some of the current imperatives that must be thought through among academics in the humanities and social sciences.

In this essay, I, who come from the sciences, have made a case for the resurgence of the Humanities and Social Sciences in our universities. It is up to the academics in these faculties to take up the challenges with rigorous scholarship and commitment and conviction. It is time, and never too late, for a definitive revival and rejuvenation of the best traditions of teaching, learning and intellectual creativity of the Humanities and Social Sciences in the universities in Sri Lanka. But I do not see that happening. Both at national policy level nor at the level of academics in the humanities and social sciences.

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Midweek Review

A Special Forces officer’s narrative

Published

3 days ago

2024/04/24

Sahan Weerasooriya

Gajaba Regiment Headquarters, Saliyapura, bids farewell to Maj. Gen. Dhammi Hewage in 2022 (pic courtesy Army)

‘Deperamunaka Satan’ dealt with several issues that hadn’t been addressed by ex-military men who shared their experiences before Maj. Gen. Dhammi Hewage launched his controversial memoirs seven months ago. The chapter on wartime recruitment underscored the importance of sustained process and the readiness on the part of the Army to inspire youth and the unprecedented impact made by entrepreneur Dilith Jayaweera, one of the presidential aspirants now, to help the armed forces to recruit required personnel. Jayaweera, who had been a classmate of Hewage at St Aloysius, Galle, in fact for the first time met the then Defence Secretary Gotabaya Rajapaksa with the intervention of late Bandula Jayasekera, the then Editor of the Daily News. That meeting led to a massive Triad-led advertising campaign that achieved the unthinkable. Hewage’s narrative is a must read for those interested in the Eelam conflict.

By Shamindra Ferdinando

Fighting was raging in the Vanni in 2008. The 57 Division, tasked to regain Kilinochchi, was facing stiff resistance, while Task Force 1 (TF1) battled the LTTE (Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam) units at a higher pace, on a wider front, also in the Vanni west, particularly in the formidable Madhu jungle terrain, which prompted some armchair experts in Colombo to predict that the Army would not come out of it in one piece.

One sarcastic scribe from another newspaper even went to the extent of claiming that the Army would be swallowed up by the LTTE in those jungles.

When Rohan Abeywardena, now with The Island, on behalf of The Sunday Times, raised that possibility, with the Task Force 1 that was still based in the Mannar Rice Bowl region, Major Harendra Ranasinghe of the Special Forces, at his makeshift field office, declared they had prepared well for jungle warfare and were ready as never before. Despite so many naysayers in Colombo they truly proved their mettle in next to no time. Ranasinghe later retired as a Major General without any fanfare.

The Army faced severe shortage of officers and men as fighting Divisions slowly but steadily advanced towards enemy strongholds along numerous thrusts as never before.

The LTTE gradually retreated towards Vanni east but posed quite a formidable threat. Both Pooneryn and Elephant Pass-Kilinochchi section of the Kandy-Jaffna A-9 road remained under its control.

Regardless of stepped-up recruitment, the Army lacked sufficient troops to hold areas that were brought back under government control. Growing casualties further increased the pressure on the fighting Divisions.

Then Major Dhammi Hewage, stationed at Volunteer Force headquarters, Battaramulla, having received an order from Army headquarters, reported to Vanni Security Forces headquarters where he was directed to 611 Brigade. Major Hewage was given the unenviable task of protecting the 15 km Main Supply Route (MSR) from Kalmadu junction to Kirisuddan.

In the absence of fighting troops, the bold officer was assigned medically downgraded personnel. There hadn’t been a single combat ready soldier under Major Hewage’s command and of them approximately 80 percent openly dissented and challenged the Army headquarters’ move.

But the then Lt. Gen. Sarath Fonseka’s Army was not inclined to tolerate dissent. Having served the Army for just over 35 years, Hewage retired as a Major General in August 2022 in the wake of President Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s ouster. At the inception of the then Second Lieutenant Hewage’s somewhat controversial military career, he had first served under the then Lieutenant Colonel Gotabaya Rajapaksa, who functioned as the Military Coordinating Officer, Matale district (May 1989-January 1990).

Hewage launched his memoirs ‘Deperamunaka Satan’ (Battles on Two Fronts) in September last year, a couple of months before Gotabaya Rajapaksa published ‘The Conspiracy to Oust Me from Presidency’, the latter however was far more blunt and dealt with the failure on the part of the military and police to protect their constitutionally elected government.

‘Deperamunaka Satan’

is certainly an immensely readable and hugely stimulating memoir of an officer, who had served the elite Special Forces after being moved from the celebrated Gajaba Regiment to the Rapid Deployment Force (RDF). The author quite easily captured the attention of the reader as he described his meeting with then Lieutenant Shavendra Silva at Saliyapura, Anuradhapura, where he was told of an opportunity to join the RDF.

Having passed out as a Second Lieutenant, in late June 1989, Hewage had been in command of a platoon of the first battalion of the Gajaba Regiment (IGR) deployed on a hill top near Ovilikanda.

On a specific directive of Lt. Col. Rajapaksa, the then Commanding Officer of 1GR, Hewage’s platoon comprising 25 personnel had been deployed there to provide protection to workers of a private firm hired to build four new power pylons to replace those destroyed by the then proscribed Janatha Vimukthi Peremuna (JVP).

It would be pertinent to mention that President Ranasinghe Premadasa, having entered into a clandestine deal with the LTTE, provided arms, ammunition and funds to the group. The LTTE caused quite significant losses on the Indian Peace Keeping Force no sooner they were deployed here under the controversial Indo-Lanka Accord that was forced on us by New Delhi, during the July 1987 and March 1990 period. The Premadasa-Prabhakaran ‘honeymoon,’ however, only lasted for about 14 months, when the LTTE turned its guns against the Premadasa government that nurtured it unwisely hoping that the Tigers would change with proper incentives. The LTTE resumed the war in June 1990, after India withdrew its Army in March 1990 at the request of President Premadasa.

If not for my colleague Harischandra Gunaratne’s offer of ‘Deperamunaka Satan’, the writer could have missed it though Captain Wasantha Jayaweera, also of the Special Forces, alerted me to the launch of the retired Maj. General’s work late last year. Incidentally, Jayaweera, had been quoted in the heart-breaking chapter that dealt with the catastrophic heli-borne landing, death of Special Forces pioneer Colonel Aslam Fazly Laphir and the humiliating fall of the isolated Mullaithivu Army Camp in July 1996 during Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga’s tenure as the President. Mullaithivu had been the home to the Army’s 25 Brigade. That loss sent shock waves through the defence establishment but, four years later, the LTTE delivered a massive blow to the Army when a Division plus troops couldn’t thwart the LTTE offensive directed at Elephant Pass.

An unprecedented ‘hit’

One of the most intriguing episodes dealt with Maj. Hewage led an attack on an LTTE group positioned in the jungles off Pompemadu without knowing their identity.

In the absence of a suitable contingent of troops for immediate deployment, Hewage had led a group of disabled men through the jungles to take on the LTTE after another patrol consisting of medically downgraded men spotted the enemy but refrained from engaging them.

Why did Hewage risk his life and the precious lives of medically condemned (categorized) men under his command? What did he really expect to achieve in such circumstances? Or was he trying to prove a point to some of his seniors or just acted recklessly on the spur-of-the-moment?

At one point they stopped firing fearing the group under fire by them were either Special Forces or Commandos. But, a shouted question and response in Tamil prompted them to fire everything they had until the group was eliminated.

The ragtag group of soldiers, led by Hewage, after the successful firefight, found four Tiger bodies along with a whole lot of equipment, including a satellite phone and two Global Positioning Systems, that led the Division Commander, then Brigadier Piyal Wickremaratne, to declare that the vanquished enemy unit were members of the LTTE Long Range Patrol.

Hewage’s response to Brig. Wickremaratne’s heartless query as to why bodies of LTTE LRP hadn’t been brought to his base and the circumstances Division Commander’s directive to recover them was not carried out, captured the imagination of the readers.

Interception of enemy communications, within 24 hours after the ‘hit’ off Pompemadu, revealed that the ‘neutralized’ LRP had been tasked with moving some Black Tiger suicide cadres, suicide jackets and other equipment from Puthukudirippu to Anuradhapura, having crossed the Kandy-Jaffna road. The Army ascertained that the LRP had been on its way back to Puthukudirippu after having safely moved a Black Tiger group to Anuradhapura.

There couldn’t have been a similar ‘hit’ during the entire war. Unfortunately, for want of follow up action to highlight the success of his men under trying circumstances, on the part of Hewage, the disabled men were denied an opportunity to receive at least the distinguished RWP (Ranawickrema Padakkama) award.

Hewage’s perspective is important. His narrative is not ordinary or simply a case of blowing his own trumpet, but a genuine bid to present an untold story that may not be to the liking of some of his seniors or of those on the same level.

But, Hewage’s is an inspiring story, especially at a time the military earned severe criticism of some due to shortcomings of a few in higher places. The social media onslaught on selected officers, both serving and retired, has worsened the situation. The devastating allegations by former President Gotabaya Rajapaksa, himself an ex-frontline combat veteran, that the Army failed in its responsibility to protect the elected President made an already bad situation far worse and intolerable.

From Maduru Oya to Kalawanchikudi

Having undergone, perhaps, the toughest training available at that time for elite fighting men at Maduru Oya where Counter Revolutionary Warfare Wing (CRW Wing) is situated, Hewage had been one of the 16 officers to pass out without a parade. All 16 officers who had been there, at the beginning of the training, were fortunate to pass out after the grueling course, though of 483 other rankers, who underwent training at the same time, only 181 were able to complete it.

Of Hewage’s Gajaba contingent (1 officer/30 other rankers) that had been sent for the training, only he and three others, including Lance Corporal Chandrapala, lasted the training period that comprised basic and advance training.

There had been peace in the Northern and Eastern Provinces at that time as President Premadasa played pandu with the LTTE. The group that included Hewage passed out from Maduru Oya during peace time and perhaps seemed to have been unaware of the resumption of the Eelam War with far bolder Tigers ranged against them after having given a bloody nose to the IPKF. However, the then Major Jayavi Fernando, who had been a senior instructor at Maduru Oya, warned those undergoing training there the war was coming. One of the key Special Forces pioneers, Fernando issued the warning at the commencement of the training and at the end of it when he declared let us go to hell. That warning was followed up by a serving of tea.

Having joined The Island in early June 1987 as a trainee reporter, this correspondent had an opportunity to cover the conflict in the North and East as well as the second southern savage uprising, perpetrated by the JVP, and an equally or more violent campaign by the forces to put it down. The time Hewage passed out from Maduru Oya had been dicey as President Premadasa, obviously duped by the LTTE, bent backwards to appease them.

On the orders of the President, the then Army Commander Lt. Gen. Hamilton Wanasinghe (1988-1991) cooperated with the LTTE. The President went to the extent of releasing money to the LTTE, even after the Eelam War II erupted with the disgraceful betrayal of the police and the Army. Fortunately, the Army disregarded the President’s directive. President Premadasa released as much as Rs 125 mn during the 1989/1990 period through the then Treasury Secretary R. Paskaralingham as he remained supremely confident the LTTE could be won over through such strategies. The LTTE proved the President wrong and the consequences, as all of us know, were devastating.

Author Hewage made reference to the formation of the Tamil National Army (TNA) by the Indian government. Although Hewage didn’t touch the issue in detail, that reference should be appreciated as the formation of the TNA should be considered taking into consideration the overall Indian strategy at that time as New Delhi sought to somehow sustain Vartharaja Perumal’s EPRLF-led administration.

Two incidents that would attract the readers were an injury suffered by Hewage while undergoing training at Maduru Oya, where he faced the threat of expulsion, and the death of Second Lieutenant Priyantha Gunawardena, on Nov 17th, 1989, at Kalmunai, during clashes between government forces and the IPKF. The death of Gunawardena caused an immense impact on Hewage, and the colleagues of the dead junior officer, of the 28th Intake, wanted two days leave to attend the funeral. When they sought approval from Maj. Jayavi Fernando, the officer’s no nonsense response must have been received as a warning.

Hewage quoted Fernando, known for his efficient, direct and quite blunt approach whatever the circumstances were, as having told them that the Kalmunai incident was only the beginning. The real war hadn’t even started yet. Gunawardena was the first batch-mate of yours to die. Many more people would die. It would be far more important to complete the course and be ready for the Eelam War II. Once you complete the training you may visit the home of the late colleague. Maj. Jayavi Fernando retired on Oct 31, 1998 during the disastrous Operation ‘Jayasikuru’ (Victory Assured) that was meant to restore Overland MSR from Vavuniya to Elephant Pass. Fernando’s shock retirement caused a severe loss of morale to the Army at a time it was under tremendous pressure not only in the Vanni but in all other theatres as well.

Hewage dealt with the killing of Second Lieutenant Deshapariya also of the Special Forces and his buddy (an assistant assigned to an officer from the time he passes out from the Military Academy) at Galagama where their bodies were set ablaze by the JVP, their deployment at the Engineers’ detachment at Tissamaharama and the sudden appearance of Maj. Laphir of the same detachment on June 13, 1990.

Within 24 hours, they were on their way to Weerwawila where officers, including Maj Laphir, joined the flight to Uhana whereas administrative troops accompanied supplies and other equipment were dispatched overland.

Hewage lovingly recalled how ordinary people waved lion flags to show their support to security forces as they travelled overland from Uhana airport to Ampara against the backdrop of punitive measures taken by the Army against JVP terrorists.

By the time the Army started building up strength the LTTE had massacred several hundred police personnel who had surrendered to them on another foolish directive issued by President Premadasa. Having named the senior officers who had arrived in Ampara to neutralize the LTTE threat, Hewage described the pressure on then Ampara Coordinating Officer then Brig.Rohan de S. Daluwatte was under as he struggled to cope up with the developing scenario.

Hewage gave an extremely good description of the fighting and incidents which involved his unit at a time the Army lacked actual combat experience as there hadn’t been any operations since India compelled Sri Lanka to halt ‘Operation Liberation’ in June 1987 that was meant to clear the Vadamatchchy region in the Jaffna peninsula, which included Velvettiturai, the home town of LTTE Leader Velupillai Prabhakaran.

The Army was suddenly forced to resume both defensive and offensive operations in the aftermath of the massacre of the surrendered police personnel in the East. By the end of 1990, the Army lost control of the Kandy-Jaffna A9 road and remained under LTTE control till Dec 2008/January 2009 when Brigadier Shavendra Silva’s celebrated Task Force 1, subsequently named 58 Division, cleared the Elephant Pass-Kilinochchi south stretch and met Maj. Gen. Jagath Dias’s 57 Division at Kilinochchi.

Hewage called the infamous instructions issued from Colombo during Ranasinghe Premadasa’s tenure as the President to all military installations to surrender to the LTTE pending negotiations. In spite of some police stations accepting the directive, other bases refused point blank. Hewage mentioned with pride how the Commanding Officer at Kalawanchikudy detachment Captain Sarath Ambawa defied those instructions and asked personnel at the neighbouring police station not to surrender but to seek protection at his base. A section of the police surrendered to the LTTE against the Captain’s wishes and were executed but 11 policemen ran across open space to reach the Kalawanchikudy Army detachment. One of them, Constable Ukku Banda succumbed to injuries he suffered as a result of LTTE fire.

Negotiations between Maj. Laphir and a local LTTE leader on the partially damaged Kokkadhicholai bridge in a bid to cross it while the then Foreign Minister A.C.S. Hameed was in Jaffna to work out a last minute ceasefire and the first Sia Marchetti attack (witnessed by Hewage) a little distance away from the bridge and later crossing the river under threat of enemy fire make interesting reading.

Trouble within

Hewage shared his first-hand experience in the 1990 Mullaithivu battle, followed by rescuing of troops trapped in Jaffna Fort also in the same year, various smaller operations in the Eastern theatre and an incident in mid-1994 at Maduru Oya where at the conclusion of risky bunker busting drill he caused an injury to private Rajapaksa, unintentionally resulting in severe repercussions.

Hewage discussed how his seniors exploited that incident to harass him though five years later Corporal Rajapakse served as his buddy during his stint in Jaffna as the Commanding Officer of Combat Rider Team.

Regardless of consequences, Hewage had been courageous and reckless to take decisions on his own on the battlefield and his description of wife of a senior officer based at Maduru Oya over her requirement to secure the services of a civilian cook with the Army is hilarious but later the difficulties the author experienced at his new appointment at the Special Forces Regimental Centre, Seeduwa, and the death of Special Forces man in the hands of Military Police investigating the disappearance of two Browning pistols and two Beretta semi-automatic pistols at their Naula camp explained the turmoil within.

Hewage had been harsh on some of his seniors, including Maj. Gen. Gamini Hettiarachchi, widely considered the Father of Special Forces and Field Marshal Sarath Fonseka whom he accused of depriving him of an opportunity to command 10 GR at that time headquartered at Akkarayankulam.

Hewage quoted the then Army Chief Lt. Gen. Sarath Fonseka as having told the then Gajaba Regimental Commander Maj. Gen. Jagath Dias he (Hewage) created a problem at Volunteer Force headquarters.

Don’t even make him Grade 1. Declaring that he realized he wouldn’t receive a command appointment as long as the war-winning Army Chief remained in office, Hewage said that he finally took over 9 GR on Sept 09, 2011 when Fonseka was under the custody of the Navy.

Hewage hadn’t minced his words as he boldly presented a controversial narrative, regardless of consequences.

Midweek Review

Artificial Intelligence: Are we getting into it with our eyes open?

Published

3 days ago

2024/04/24

Sahan Weerasooriya

by Prof. Janendra De Costa

Senior Professor and Chair of Crop Science, Faculty of Agriculture, University of Peradeniya

Artificial intelligence (AI) seems to be the ‘in-thing’ these days, especially for the President of Sri Lanka, who keeps mentioning it in his speeches as a key ingredient for Sri Lanka to achieve prosperity, both economic and otherwise. Taking the President’s cue, the Minister of Education and Higher Education recently went on record saying that AI will be taught in schools from the lower secondary grades upwards in the near future. The potential of AI for improving the efficiency and effectiveness of activities in a wide range of areas that contribute to overall national development, prosperity and well-being is undisputed. However, to treat AI as a ‘silver bullet’ which would cure Sri Lanka from all the complex issues that it is mired in and propel its economy towards development and prosperity is a fallacy that we would do well to avoid. I do not have any claim to be an expert in AI and I welcome its introduction to our curricula, at secondary and tertiary levels, just as I would welcome any other modern advance in Science and Technology (S & T). Nevertheless, the purpose of this article is to focus the readers’ attention on concerns raised by experts on the potential limitations and pitfalls of adoption of AI without being fully aware of its inherent limitations and potential threats. This would be especially relevant for Sri Lanka, which has a history of adopting (and failing) new technologies rather ‘blindly’ and without developing a strong foundation to sustain them. In writing this cautionary note, I have drawn heavily from a recent editorial of the prestigious science journal Nature and some recently published papers, views and opinions in highly recognized S & T research journals, which indicate that this is a global issue, likely to influence both the developed and the developing world.

What is artificial intelligence?

In its simplest sense, artificial intelligence employs a computer, or a robot fed with a series of instructions, to carry out tasks that are normally performed by humans. These tasks can range from simple ones such as writing a letter to complex functions such as designing proteins, pharmaceutical drugs or whole experiments and running laboratories. The capability of AI tools and methodologies to process a quantity of information, which is substantially larger than what an individual human brain (or mind) is capable of processing and finding the best solution in a given situation (called ‘optimization’ in AI terminology) is claimed as a major advantage of AI. The AI tools run on algorithms (series of specific instructions) which are designed to make decisions and carry out functions as done by humans, but with substantially greater effectiveness and efficiency because of their capacity to overcome limitations of an individual human brain (e.g. analyzing the outcomes from a wider range of possible scenarios). To enable them to do this, the AI tools and their algorithms are ‘trained’ on a sufficiently large set of data (often called ‘big data’), supposedly representing all possible scenarios. For example, by being trained on the past data on auction sales of tea in global markets, AI could be used to predict the future market trends for Ceylon Tea. This is an example of what is called ‘Predictive AI’. While a competent economist or a statistician could do the same task using a reasonably large data set, the argument for using an AI instrument would be that it is able to process a much larger and a more varied and complex data set and come up with more precise predictions for a wider range of future scenarios. Recently, a final year undergraduate of my faculty, under the supervision of one of my colleagues, developed an AI tool to grade big onions into categories with greater precision and efficiency than is currently done by traders. In developing the AI tool, it was trained on a wide range of images of onions linked to their physical characteristics such as size, shape and surface properties. Perhaps the best illustration of the power of AI is the computer trained on a multitude of chess moves beating the World Champion in chess.

Potential for AI applications in Sri Lanka

As identified by the President, there is potential for application of AI to improve the efficiency of many activities in a range of sectors in Sri Lanka. Decision-making has been a particularly weak link in the administrative structure of Sri Lanka at all levels, from the President, Cabinet and Ministerial down to the lowest levels of governance in almost all institutions across all sectors. Key decisions on policy and action are often taken without proper consideration and analysis of relevant facts and figures, with personal bias coming into decision-making most of the time. Even when the so-called experts are employed as advisors, their capacity to analyse all relevant information and provide unbiased advice and guidance in decision-making has been questionable at best, and woefully inadequate at worst. The decision to convert Sri Lankan agriculture to 100% organic overnight is a clear recent case in point, which illustrates the inherent weaknesses in the decision-making process at the highest level of governance in Sri Lanka. Apart from its capacity to process a large amount of varied information, a perceived advantage of AI is its impartiality and hence the avoidance of personal bias, which is inherent in human decision-making. In a future ideal Sri Lanka where AI tools in all important sectors abound, perhaps the people in key governance positions (if they ever become sufficiently mature and S & T savvy) could rely on AI to provide sound, evidence-based, unbiased advice during decision-making on key policies and actions.

Similarly, one can ask whether AI can provide solutions to some of the critical issues and improve efficiency in key areas related to economic development. Collection of taxes and government revenue, identification of effective measures of poverty alleviation, land use planning, agriculture and natural resource management, medical supplies and health care, policy and planning on education reforms and management of educational resources, innovations in developing globally competitive products, goods and services and research in all key sectors related to national development are just a collection of areas (by no means exhaustive) which appear to be having limited efficiency when handled by humans so that appropriate AI tools and technologies could make a significant positive impact on the national economy. Furthermore, ideally, the AI tools should be able to make more accurate predictions than those that are currently available about short-term weather, long-term future climate and the occurrence of extreme climatic events such as floods, landslides, droughts and heatwaves. National issues of equal significance such as prediction of outbreaks of climate-related diseases such as dengue could benefit from the greater predictive power offered by the AI tools.

Potential pitfalls and inherent limitations of AI

International research literature abounds with recent advances in the development and application of AI in a wide range of disciplines and activities, almost all demonstrating greater competence and efficiency than the existing technologies and practices. However, there are also a lesser number of papers which focus on the inherent limitations of AI and potential risks of its increased adoption. A few of the key issues are outlined below.

Fundamentally, an AI tool is dependent on the algorithm and the set of source data on which the algorithm is ‘trained’. Absence of adequate amounts source data which is sufficiently comprehensive is likely to be a major drawback when developing AI tools to improve the efficiency of any given sector in Sri Lanka. Here, the natural tendency and the pathway of least resistance, especially for Sri Lankan officials and experts, would be to use AI tools developed in and trained on source data from other countries. While it could be argued that such AI tools are ‘trained’ on source data which are sufficiently extensive, there will always be the question whether the source data adequately captured the whole gamut of conditions, that may be specific, and in some cases unique, to Sri Lanka. Consequently, an AI tool trained on inadequate or poorly representative source data, when used without adequate knowledge and understanding of the underlying mechanisms and processes on which the AI tool is developed, could provide solutions that may not be the best (or optimum) despite conveying the illusory promise of being the best. As a solution to the inadequacy of source data on which to train AI tools, AI, itself, can expand its source database by identifying underlying patterns and the distribution of the existing data and subsequently generate new data. This is part of ‘Generative AI’, which has developed to such an extent that AI can generate ‘respondents’ for (socioeconomic) surveys who would respond to questionnaires in the same way that human respondents would respond. Nevertheless, the fundamental limitation of inadequate source data is likely to remain in many key sectors in Sri Lanka because successive Sri Lankan governments have never invested enough on gathering sufficient and comprehensive information and quantitative data on which to base its policy formulation and decision-making.

A key advantage of the use of AI in decision-making is its perceived absence of personal bias. However, it has been observed that this perceived absence of bias is not always true when AI is applied. When developing the AI algorithms and training them on source data, the developer makes a number of decisions and choices, which inevitably introduces personal bias into the AI tool. When such AI tools are used by end-users who are not familiar with the process through which the model was developed (which is highly likely to be the case in Sri Lanka), the bias inherent in the model leads to outcomes and decisions which favour some views, groups and outcomes while marginalising the alternative, sometimes more valid and inclusive, views and outcomes.

The greater computational power of an AI model trained on ‘big-data’ and providing an output which is more comprehensive than a human-generated output could create an illusion that that AI provides a solution with a superior understanding of the whole scope of the problem. However, the decisions and choices made during the process of algorithm development imposes a limit to the scope of understanding of the AI tool and the solutions provided by it.

Generative AI tools using Large Language Models (LLMs) such as GPTs have already become a common tool among Sri Lankan university students who use it for writing tasks ranging from an email to a report that is submitted for evaluation. This has created a dilemma in the academia on how to evaluate the true competence and the learning outcomes of a student. The capacity of students to synthesise by integrating information from different sources, a key competence that we as academics try to inculcate in our students, is taken away when he/she takes the easy route of using a generative AI tool such as ChatGPT. In an on-going curriculum revision in my faculty, there are colleagues who argue that subject content that can be learnt via generative chatbots such as ChatGPT need not be included in the curriculum. This is a clear example of the illusion of complete understanding that is created by AI tools, which engenders complete trust and reliance on them. The LLMs are trained on increasingly large sets of words and expressions and are increasing their capacity to capture human capabilities. However, even though the creators of AI tools may argue to the contrary, it is doubtful whether generative AI tools, however advanced, could replicate the creativity of the human mind. On the other hand, students hooked on to generative AI tools could create a future generation and a nation with diminished creativity, which would be counterproductive to the very objective of introducing AI to bring about national development and prosperity. There is evidence that students in Sri Lankan universities, both state and non-state, are already hooked on these generative AI tools for producing their take-home assignments and reports. It can be argued that such AI tools ‘levels the playing field’ for those students who are dis-advantaged when they enter a higher education institution due to lower competence in the English language. However, an equally valid counter argument would be that the availability of AI tools is likely to hinder the development of the skill of English usage.

On the global stage, risks posed by some of the latest developments in AI have been recognized and articulated. For example, the potential threats to biosecurity posed by AI-designed proteins and drugs by causing more potent diseases have been recognized. There is the possibility of algorithms that are developed initially for a legitimate purpose being adapted (‘repurposed’) for an alternative not-so-legitimate purpose. The newly developed text-to-video AI tool can create fake videos, which can be used for many harmful purposes. For example, such fake videos of key public figures could shift public opinion in crucial events such as elections. A recent research study has shown that chatbots based on Large Language Models (LLMs) show clear inherent racial bias because of the way the algorithm has been trained to recognize words, phrases and dialects used by specific ethnic or demographic groups and link them to a range of characteristics of those groups, as perceived by the developers of the AI tool.

An important social issue that is inherent when AI gains recognition and trust as a superior partner in generating solutions is the creation of a favoured group of professionals and scientists, especially when it comes to allocation of limiting state resources such as funding for Research and Development (R & D). Creation of such favoured ‘monocultures’ of professionals was evident in Sri Lanka during periods when specific disciplines were earmarked by those who were in power and had the authority to decide on who gets the resources on a priority basis. Clear cases in point were the scientists engaged in nanotechnology, and to a lesser extent biotechnology in the 2000s and the so-called experts in organic agriculture in the recent past. Creation of such favoured monocultures have adverse long-term consequences on national development as it leads, inevitably, to marginalisation and detriment of R & D in other disciplines and demotivation of their practitioners. Looking at what happened in the past, there is a clear and present danger of this history repeating itself in the next few years when AI is viewed as the ticket to economic development and prosperity. The multi-faceted and holistic nature of the development of any nation, irrespective of its present economic status, requires a reasonably adequate allocation of its limited resources across all disciplines of S & T even when a greater proportion of the resources are allocated to a few favoured disciplines which are perceived as having a greater potential to contribute to national development. (To be continued)

Additional Reading

1. Why scientists trust AI too much – and what to do about it. (Editorial). Nature, 627: 243. 14 March 2024. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41586-023-06221-2.

2. Alvarado, R. (2023). What kind of trust does AI deserve, if any?. AI and Ethics, 3(4): 1169-1183. https://doi.org/10.1007/s43681-022-00224-x.

3. Carroll, J. M. (2022). Why should humans trust AI?. Interactions, 29(4), 73-77. https://doi.org/10.1145/3538392.

4. Krenn, M. et al. (2022). On scientific understanding with artificial intelligence. Nature Reviews Physics, 4(12): 761-769. https://doi.org/10.1038/s42254-022-00518-3.

5. Messeri, L. & Crockett, M.J. (2024). Artificial intelligence and illusions of understanding in scientific research. Nature, 627: 49-58. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41586-024-07146-0.

6. von Eschenbach, W.J. (2021). Transparency and the Black Box problem: Why we do not trust AI. Philosophy & Technology, 34: 1607–1622. https://doi.org/10.1007/s13347-021-00477-0.

7. Wang, H. et al. (2023). Scientific discovery in the age of artificial intelligence. Nature, 620: 47-60. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41586-023-06221-2.

The writer is a Fellow of the National Academy of Sciences of Sri Lanka and has been an academic and a research scientist in Agriculture and Natural Sciences for over three decades while being based in Sri Lanka.