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‘Why are Arts graduates unemployable?’

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By Hasini Lecamwasam

‘Arts people’, since quite some time now, are being pushed to confront this question head-on. Since answers are only as good as the questions that prompt them, my aim here is to first unpack this question, then its proposed solution.

I find this question fallacious on three counts: First, it is underpinned by the assumption that what one studies directly corresponds to what one ends up doing for a living. Second, the label ‘unemployable’ tends to mask the many realities of the job market and ignore the structural conditions that shape the employment preferences of graduates. Third and last, it attempts to interpret the gains of tertiary education, purely in terms of its direct economic yield, demanding that we surrender our cognitive capacity to the narrow confines of market reasoning.

Three fallacies

Let me take up the first issue, well, first. Even a cursory look at how things function in society should make it clear that there is no strong correlation between one’s academic qualifications and career path, starting with getting hired. I recently ran into a Science graduate, working as the manager of a regional office of a well-known business establishment, specialising in bathware. There are many others of his background, engaged in employment, equally unrelated to their primary degree and its ‘skills’. The many agriculture graduates joining the civil service is another case in point. Throw into this mix all the highly questionable political appointments made in state institutions, and the skills-employment causation starts to seem dubious at best.

Secondly, subsuming all Arts graduates looking for a job, under the category of ‘unemployed,’ is a sweeping generalization which then leads to the conclusion that their degree, therefore, renders them ‘unemployable’. Drawing attention to the highly questionable nature of this conclusion is the general thrust of this piece, and has been the focus of many Kuppi Talks already. However, the premise itself is problematic. All Arts graduates (I am consciously sticking to the Arts, given the purview of this article) looking for a job are not necessarily unemployed. Recall how the President asked a 40-year-old Arts graduate asking for a job; ‘what have you been doing so far?’ Though there was no time for a response as the President was driven away, it stands to reason that this graduate did not remain ‘unemployed’ until 40. Because a government job offers more stability and security, graduates tend to prefer it, which alone qualifies as a ‘proper job’, given family/societal expectations and their own preferences modelled on them. Until then, however, they do other jobs to get by, sometimes in the informal economy, meaning to say they are, in fact, not as ‘unemployable’ or ‘unskilled’ as they are made out to be.

Thirdly, a minimalistic ‘economic’ understanding of education completely discounts its transformative potential. This all-engulfing market ethos eats into the critical capacity of the university, discrediting it as inconvenient, unnecessary noise, thereby further limiting the university’s prospects of being a site of critical reflection and action. Let not ‘critical reflection’ be understood as an overly romanticised notion put forth by universities – particularly their ‘Arts’ wings – to salvage their existence. To reiterate a message from the first Kuppi Talk, education’s objective is as much to instill an in-depth understanding of a subject, as it is to guide students to “come into a knowing of the world around us, known among other things, as social mobility and as an awareness of one’s place in the country, society and the world”. It is this awareness that will enable us to intervene and change it for the better. Education devoid of this intention is but a process of transmitting information that may just as easily be carried out by robots. Our tertiary education seems to already be well on its way there, with the emphasis on ‘skills’ and ‘competencies’ completely crowding out any possibility of focusing on producing graduates who are also able to think.

 

The skills narrative and STEM as a way out

When the question is framed by such fallacies, it is not in fairness possible to expect sound answers. As such, band aid solutions have been proposed, focusing on ‘skills’ as the cure-all for our unemployment problem, as though there are more jobs hungrily waiting to be filled by those with the necessary competencies than universities could possibly produce graduates for, if only they got the skills part right! The fact that these prescriptions are being made in the context of a pandemic makes them even more ridiculous. It takes no expert to realise that an already collapsing economy, reeling from the additional shock of Covid-19, can hardly even accommodate the existing workforce, let alone absorb additions to it, no matter how marketable their ‘skills’ are.

This ill-informed diagnosis has resulted in a policy package that is alarmingly short sighted. Presented as part of Sri Lanka’s 2020 budget, it has allocated funds to increase the STEM component of education on the national level by levelling out infrastructural differences between schools, establishing technical colleges and vocational institutes, as well as expanding university intakes to these subjects. What would be the result of these policy directives? We need not look beyond India to find actual examples of the cost of skewing the education system without ensuring that the economy is able to absorb all of these ‘skills’. Tamil Nadu, for example, houses more than 3000 colleges for engineering alone, and had in excess of 150,000 engineering graduates unemployed as of 2018, according to The Hindu. If a giant economy like India – that is known as an offshore IT skill market for First World countries – cannot absorb the graduates with the necessary ‘skill set’ produced by its system of education, trusting Sri Lanka to be able to do the job borders on pathological optimism.

 

Wrong answers to the wrong problems

Let it be unambiguously acknowledged that education (including higher education) is in need of urgent reform. However, reform has to be for the right reasons by those who have both a stake and an interest in the issue. As already discussed, the skills-employment nexus is erroneous on many levels. Therefore, attempting to answer the [un]employment question – which is itself fallacious – primarily through educational reform, rather than focusing on diversifying and expanding employment opportunities, and radically reforming recruitment processes, will yield little fruit.

In all these debates a more fundamental peril may escape our attention, namely that market reasoning is increasingly coming to dictate the terms of our living. Education is but one example of this. What we need to be aware of is that as a Third World country we are simply an underdog economy catering to the whims and fancies of larger economic powers. So, when we attempt to model our education according to what the ‘market’ wants, it is worth asking whose market we are talking about. We obviously cannot operate in isolation, but should it be our aspiration to produce foot soldiers for the global economy? What if, like in the Indian example above (and like in most colonised countries during the late-colonial and immediate post-colonial times), stunting the economy too much in favour of foreign demand worsens our already deep economic crisis, every time there is a problem in the larger economies on which we are almost solely planning to rely?

The ‘unemployable Arts graduate’ would appear very differently in an economy managed very differently. For the economy to be managed differently, we need thinking that transcends market reasoning, and has healthy respect for that which is not of immediate and apparent economic value. So let us stop. And think.

(Hasini Lecamwasam is attached to the Department of Political Science, 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.



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Returning to source with Aga

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Aga

The last time I met Aga I had made up my mind to bring him a few things, stationery mostly, to help him along with his writing. His desk was a somewhat chaotic cluster of cardboard folders, containing loose sheets of paper on which had written his manuscripts – sometimes, a page would spill out onto the table and I worried how he could figure out what went where. At the centre of this celestial orbit were the party’s old weeklies and national congress reports, like a compass guiding his research.

Sadly, time got the better of us, and I never did get to refresh his stationary supply.

Aga Jayasena (15 February 1942–28 October 2025), was a communist as old as the Sri Lanka’s communist movement itself, being born less than a year before the founding of the Ceylon Communist Party (2–3 July 1943). He joined the party as a full-timer immediately after graduating from the University of Sri Jayewardenepura and cut his teeth organising peasants in Badulla and Monaragala. He recalled that he lacked the confidence to give his own speeches in his early days as an organiser, so would read aloud the articles from the communist daily Aththa. A lifelong learner, communicator, and educator, he soon found a place in the party’s central committee, politburo, education department, and as a national organiser.

I first saw Aga, and heard him speak, at the launch of his book on Frederick Engels. I was impressed but a little intimidated, he seemed to me quite stern and serious that day! It was only earlier this year that I picked up the courage to call him to do a series of interviews on his perspectives on the history of communist movement in Sri Lanka. My initial estimation of him was quite wrong, he was extremely warm and welcoming. Ah, Shiran! No point talking on the phone, come and meet me in person. After a few false starts, mainly due to his health, we met at his home in Pelawatte. Flipping through my notes, and listening to the recordings, I realise how unstructured these conversations were. We spoke for hours about various elements from history. But throughout, he was patient, kind, and analytical.

The following are some elements of what we discussed, including my own reflections and research based on the points he raised.

What stage are we in?

In his last days, Aga had thrown himself into the movement’s history to try and understand how the present came to be. He was busy writing his memoirs, including his reflections on the history of party, some of which were quite critical. In our discussions, he was emphatic about the efforts by founding leaders S. A. Wickramasinghe and M. G. Mendis to build the trade union and cooperative movements. The struggles in the trade union movements – especially the conflicts with A. E. Gunasinghe’s Ceylon Labour Party, which had taken a communal and collaborationist turn, during the strikes at the Wellawatte Spinning and Weaving Mills – pre-dated the founding of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party (LSSP). Similarly, when the communists were expelled from the LSSP in 1940, Wickramasinghe and his comrades first spent time building up the mass organisations – the Ceylon Trade Union Federation (CTFU) was established in 1941. The party had to come out of the movement, not the other way around.

For Aga, this was the key. He was critical, though not dismissive, of the penchant for conjuring up programmes on which to base a coalition. Having a programme was all good and well, but a programme needed to be creative and original, it had to identify the social forces that would propel the programme forward – who would be included and excluded in such a programme? In his words, a programme needed a “vehicle” – the mass organisations. He was strongly of the opinion that the communist movement needed to descend once again into the working class to rejuvenate itself and rebuild this vehicle.

Aga was also particular about the key theoretical questions. He asked: “What stage of the revolution are we in?” and “Is there a national question?” The questions were open ended, as if he knew the multiple-choice answers that lay before but was unsure which was correct in the current conjuncture. One thing was certain; more study was needed. But the movement lacked intellectuals of the calibre that once existed. And the tide of day-to-day crises and electoral compulsions pulled the movement ever forward, with scarcely a moment to pause, reflect, and evaluate.

Colombo to Cochin

Aga’s reading of the party’s beginnings in the working-class movement made him think about the role of Malayali workers in Ceylon. The CCP’s first mass base was among the Malayali workers. There were about 40,000 Malayalis in Ceylon by the 1940s, and around 2700 Malayali toddy tappers were organised by the CTFU-affiliated All-Ceylon Toddy Workers. In fact, the CCP itself was the product of a union between its predecessor the United Socialist Party, and the largely Malayali-based Ceylon Socialist Party. The first CCP constitution, adopted in 1944, specified that the flag should have the party’s name inscribed “in the Sinhalese, Tamil, Malayalam or English language as the case may be”. Similarly, the party’s first publications were quadrilingual – Forward (English), Janasakthi (Sinhala and Tamil), and Navasakthi (Malayalam). Columns in right-wing papers like Times of Ceylon used to derisively refer to the CCP as ‘Malayali comrades’.

Ceylonese communist ties to India were not limited to their organising the workers domiciled in Ceylon. The founders themselves had intimate connections with the Indian freedom movement – nurtured during periods of study in London and visits to India itself. In London, Wickramasinghe associated closely with Indian freedom fighter, and independent India’s first High Commissioner to the United Kingdom, V. K. Krishna Menon – the two organised a conference on ‘Socialism in India and Ceylon’. Wickramasinghe later travelled to India during the Meerut trial, and for a while lived alongside Sabarmati Ashram Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. Then there is Buddhist monk Udakandala Sri Saranankara Thero, who studied in Santiniketan, the residential school established by Rabindranath Tagore. In India, Saranankara Thero, learned Bengali, became involved with the Indian freedom movement, and met Subhas Chandra Bose in prison.

But as independence came, efforts turned inwards towards national construction, and contradictions arose over citizenship, borders, markets, and so on. For the communists, the main international capital became the Soviet Union, which alone had the economic strength to maintain an internationally supportive network. Thus, bilateral relationships with neighbouring fraternal parties were deprioritised compared to the relationship with the Soviet Union, which served as the movement’s Mecca.

Aga wondered why that relationship with the Indian movement, particularly in Kerala, wasn’t nurtured more by both sides. Just across the Palk Straits, and over the Western Ghats, lay Kerala, which had democratically elected communists to power in 1959 (interestingly, the dismissal of this government by Nehru, with CIA-backing, occurred just months before the assassination of S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike). There are many parallels between Kerala and Sri Lanka. At the time of independence, both were plantation economies, with an underdeveloped industrial bourgeoisie and proletariat, and a dependency on food imports. Like Sri Lanka, Kerala was one of the last places on the subcontinent for a communist party cell to be formed – E. M. S. Namboodiripad attributed this to the relative underdevelopment of Kerala’s modern industries, a conclusion that may well be applied to Sri Lanka too.

Aga’s point intrigued me. Why were there no greater exchanges between the Sri Lankan and Keralite movements? Could there not have been exchanges of cadres for political education, and mutual translation of literature and poetry? Could Sri Lankan cadres not have been sent on fact-finding missions to Kerala’s vast cooperatives networks, community libraries, and healthcare centres? These questions may seem idealistic but they are very well worth asking given the close historical, cultural, and geographical links between the two polities.

Following Aga’s lead, my research led me to an interesting figure. P. Sankar was a Malayali trade unionist and founding member of the CTFU (where he was the vice president and assistant secretary), editor the CCP’s Malayalam weekly Navasakthi, and a CCP central committee member from 1943 to 1952. Sankar returned to India in 1952 – I am not sure the circumstances but it seems likely that the Ceylonese government’s policies against Indian immigrants must have played a role. Once back in Kerala, Sankar joined the Communist Party of India and was elected to the Kerala Legislative Assembly from Chittur in 1977. He died in 1991. Did he ever stay in touch with comrades in Sri Lanka?

I don’t think Aga was being Indo-centric or an Indophile when he suggested closer relations with the Indian movement. His point was that the conditions in India were far more similar to Sri Lanka than the distant Soviet Union. He argued that Sri Lankan communist youth were eager to go and study in the Soviet Union (an arrangement that evolved into a paternalistic relationship for the party) but what they learnt could not always be easily applied to Sri Lanka. I don’t know if he felt this way about his own time at the Academy of Social Science in Moscow. The Soviet Union certainly helped produce a great many Sri Lankan bureaucrats and public servants (for example, Dr. Anil Jasinghe, the health ministry secretary who helped lead the campaign against the COVID-19 pandemic, is a product of Soviet education) but not enough revolutionaries with original thinking. Aga was making an argument rooted in Sri Lankan reality.

Cream of the Crop

One memento I have from Aga is a copy of the Draft Political Report for the Eight National Congress of the Ceylon Communist Party (20–24 August 1972). The faded copy, its pages yellowed, sits on my desk as I type this. Between 1964 and 1972, a period of eight years, there were no national congresses held. Up to then, this was perhaps the longest period without a party congress. This was especially significant because it was a turbulent and transformative few years for the party, the left movement, and the country as a whole.

In 1964, the party had split along the Sino-Soviet fissure, N. Sanmugathasan took with him much of CTFU, the editors of the Sinhala and Tamil press, the peasant front organiser, and several youth front leaders. Thought its electoral impact may have been small, it was a significant blow to the unity of the mass organisations and the ideologically committed mid-level cadre. Then in 1965, Shan’s own party split, with the young Rohana Wijeweera peeling off the youth-wing and beginning to proselytise among rural educated Sinhala youth (Aga was one of those personally approached by Wijeweera) to establish the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP).

Also in 1964, the United Left Front (ULF), consisting of the LSSP, CCP, and Philip Gunawardena’s Mahajana Eksath Peramuna, collapsed due to the LSSP breaking ranks to accept a cabinet position in the Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP) government led by Sirimavo Bandaranaike. After decades of factionalism, the ULF had been virtually compelled to form due to unprecedent united trade union action leading to the formation of the Joint Committee of Trade Union Organisations in 1963.

Reflecting on the watershed collapse of the short-lived ULF, Aga said, “people let go of us”.

The centre-right government that took power in 1965 was the first to borrow from the International Monetary Fund. There was a renewed urgency for unity among progressive forces. By 1970, the long mooted LSSP-CCP-SLFP alignment finally came to fruition, and this United Front won the elections by a landslide. But the CCP was blocked from obtaining more than one ministerial position (the Ministry of Housing and Reconstruction held by Pieter Keuneman).

Then, in 1971, came the JVP insurrection. Aga recalled the turbulent conjuncture of that time – the assassination of Che Guevara in Bolivia in 1966 and the independent Tricontinental line of Cuba, the US war on Vietnam and the killing of Buddhist monks, and the proliferation of literature by Kim Il Sung translated into Sinhala. The insurrection shook the Old Left, which was completely taken aback by the violence. The deeply ingrained notion that there were no conditions for armed struggle in Sri Lanka were challenged. “The big question was why we didn’t see this coming”, Aga said.

Aga admitted a “soft corner” for the JVP of 1971. He was of the same generation of Rohana Wijeweera (born in 14 July 1943). He spoke of that generation in an almost bittersweet and rueful tone – they were the “cream”, he said, who could have been a powerful force for social transforma

He had just returned to the country after his political education in the Soviet Union, and communist youth all around the country were in ferment. Aga spoke as if whether he ended up on side or the other was a flip of the coin. After all, like many communists of his age, he had comrades on both sides.

In 1973, the Soviet-wing of the CCP split, a faction led by Wickramasinghe crossed over to the opposition (this group included Sarath Muttetuwegama, Aththa editor H. G. S. Ratnaweera, as well as a young Aga and D. E. W. Gunasekera). A faction led by Keuneman remained with Sirimavo Bandaranaike’s government. There were a range of reasons for this split, including the disagreement with the heavy-handed way in which the government had dealt with the JVP insurgents and the use of Criminal Justice Commissions (CJC) Act, No. 14 of 1972, which allowed evidence that would have been inadmissible under the normal procedures. This crucial period intrigued Aga. Some historical accounts claim that the Soviet embassy intervened to patch up ties between the two factions in 1976. Aga intimated that this didn’t happen on equal ground – the Soviets had “closed the tap” of financial support to Wickramasinghe’s faction.

I tend to speculate that Wickramasinghe, without the support of intellectual stalwarts – like P. Kandiah (died in 1960), G. V. S. De Silva (left the party in 1959), and Sanmugathasan and Kumarasiri (who formed the Peking faction in 1964) – perhaps lacked the theoretical confidence to mount a challenge to the Soviet-Keuneman line, and felt isolated. But that is purely my speculation. It is interesting that Sanmugathasan’s Memoirs of an Unrepentant Communist (1989) expresses venom towards Keuneman, but a reverence towards Wickramasinghe. Similarly, Kumarasiri wrote in his later years that Wickramasinghe – not Philip Gunawardena, who later allied with the UNP – was the person who came closest to deserving the title ‘Father of Socialism’ in Sri Lanka. Wickramaisnghe didn’t leave behind any memoirs, so we may never truly know his story.

I think Aga was drawn to the 1972 Draft Political Report because he felt the text contained within it some of the contradictions brewing in the party since the 1960s, and especially after the 1970 coalition and 1971 insurrection. The copy I have is in English and is missing ten pages. Some passages have been marked with a pencil, but I am not sure if this was done by Aga himself, since he would have surely read the Sinhala version instead. Here is one of the marked paragraphs:

“The Party entered the United Front without fully working out the relationship between its own programme and that of the United Front. In the absence of independent campaigns for the party programme, there was a certain ideological confusion in some party ranks and also its development and continuation of diverse ideological trends. This also created confusion among the politically advanced non-party sections, leading to doubts in their minds as to the revolutionary character of the CP. The neglect of the ideological struggle also contributed to the above.”

We Have no Mechanism

My first interview with Aga was about four months into the presidency of Anura Kumar Dissanayake (AKD) and the National People’s Power (NPP) government. Aga had an open mind about the NPP when we met. That said, he maintained it was not clear which way the government would go, and if and how the government would break from the neoliberal framework. He acknowledged that there had been a series of missed opportunities for détente between the JVP and the Communist Party of Sri Lanka over the last decade – most notably, during the joint-struggle to prevent the privatisation of Colombo Port’s East Container Terminal.

Aga understood the NPP’s decision to continue with the IMF programme, and felt it wise for the NPP to not rock the boat too much. Not because he endorsed the IMF programme but because he must have felt that the balance of power was strongly tilted in favour of the bondholders and local merchant capitalists, who could make the economy scream by withholding foreign currency, hoarding commodities, downgrading credit ratings, and so on.

He was also sympathetic to the fact that the NPP was walking into a collapsed state machinery. His choice of words, in Sinhala, still echoes in my mind – “අපිට යාන්ත්‍රණයක් නැහැ”, we have no mechanism. He felt the NPP’s first budget, constrained by the IMF’s conditions, was unable to satisfy any specific sector, but he was appreciative of the allocations towards the estate sector and the north and east. In general, he was appreciative of the NPP’s electoral gains in the north, but was critical of their lack of clarity on solving the national question. He felt that the provision of economic services and infrastructure alone would not be enough to sidestep the political question.

Aga was clearly in a nostalgic mood the times I met him. His mind kept drifting back to the fighters from history, many of whom did not leave behind any memoirs and who are not memorialised by those who remain. He wondered why his generation (the second generation of communists) never thought to sit and interview the first generation at length before they died. Tears came to his eyes as he spoke of A. Vaidialingam, one of the founders of the CCP, who few speak of today. “Vaidialingam was to the north, what Wickramasinghe was to the south”, Aga said. With Aga’s passing, that lineage is almost broken – so much of our movement’s history remains unwritten.

The last message I have from Aga is a voice note in appreciation of a talk I gave on the Bandung Spirit at the Bandaranaike Centre for International Studies earlier this year. In our interviews, he was often pensive and introspective, so it is nice to have a recording of his voice sounding so animated.

Aga’s passing strikes us just two months ahead of the 90th anniversary of the founding of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party – the beginning of the socialist movement in Sri Lanka. I hope that, like Aga, others in the left will take the time to reflect upon the past 90 years of struggle and write these histories. Not just to bask in the glories of the past, but to regain a sense of self, a confidence in our ideas and original aspirations, and a grounding to forge a way ahead.

(Shiran Illanperuma is a researcher at Tricontinental: Institute for Social Research and a co-editor of Wenhua Zongheng: A Journal of Contemporary Chinese Thought. He is a co-convenor of the Asia Progress Forum).

by Shiran Illanperuma

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Amid Winds and Waves: Sri Lanka and the Indian Ocean – references Prof. Gamini Keerawella

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The following are the references for the four-part article, Amid Winds and Waves:  Sri Lanka and the Indian Ocean byProf. Gamini Keerawella, published in The Island on 10, 11, 12 and 13 Nov. 

Acharya, Amitav. 2014. The End of American World Order. Cambridge: Polity Press

Amrith, Sunil S. 2013. Crossing the Bay of Bengal: The Furies of Nature and the Fortunes of Migrants. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Baldwin, David A. 2016. Power and International Relations: A Conceptual Approach. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Brewster, David. 2014. India’s Ocean: The Story of India’s Bid for Regional Leadership. London: Routledge.

Blanchard, Jean-Marc F., and Colin Flint. 2017. “The Geopolitics of China’s Maritime Silk Road Initiative.” Geopolitics 22 (2): 223–245.

Bose, Sugata. 2006. A Hundred Horizons: The Indian Ocean in the Age of Global Empire. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Browning, Christopher S. 2006. “Small, Smart and Salient? Rethinking Identity in the Small States Literature.” Cambridge Review of International Affairs 19 (4): 669–684. https://doi.org/10.1080/09557570601003536

Buzan, Barry, and Ole Wæver. 2003. Regions and Powers: The Structure of International Security. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press

Campbell, Kurt M., and Iain H. Houlden, eds. 1989. The Indian Ocean: Regional and Strategic Studies. New York: St. Martin’s Press.

Chacko, Priya. 2021. “Sri Lanka and the Indian Ocean: Geopolitical Crosscurrents.” Third World Quarterly 42 (8): 1647–1665.

Chaturvedi, Sanjay, and Michal Okano-Heijmans, eds. 2019. Connectivity and the Indo-Pacific: Concepts, Challenges, and Prospects. Singapore: Springer.

Chaudhuri, K. N. 1985. Trade and Civilisation in the Indian Ocean: An Economic History from the Rise of Islam to 1750. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Crawford, Neta C. 2000. Rethinking International Relations. Boulder, CO: Westview Press.

Cordner, Lee. 2010. “Rethinking Maritime Security in the Indian Ocean Region.” Journal of the Indian Ocean Region 6 (1): 67–85

Das Gupta, Ashin, and M. N. Pearson, eds. 1987. India and the Indian Ocean, 1500–1800. Calcutta: Oxford University Press.

de Silva, Colvin R. 1953. Ceylon under the British Occupation : 1795-1833. Colombo: Ceylon Apothecaries

Finnemore, Martha, and Kathryn Sikkink. 1998. “International Norm Dynamics and Political Change.” International Organization 52 (4): 887–917.

Gunasekara, T. 2021. Maritime Diplomacy and Small State Strategy: Sri Lanka in the Indian Ocean. South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies 44(2): 275–292.

Hey, Jeanne A. K., ed. 2003. Small States in World Politics: Explaining Foreign Policy Behavior. Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner Publishers.

Holmes, James R., and Toshi Yoshihara. 2008. Chinese Naval Strategy in the 21st Century: The Turn to Mahan. London: Routledge.

Hourani, George F. 1995. Arab Seafaring in the Indian Ocean in Ancient and Early Medieval Times. Rev. ed. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Ingebritsen, Christine. 2006. Small States in International Relations. Seattle: University of Washington Press.

Kaplan, Robert D. 2010. Monsoon: The Indian Ocean and the Future of American Power. New York: Random House.

Keerawella, Gamini. 2024. India’s Naval Strategic ascent ane the Evolving Natal Security Dynamics of the Indian Ocean-BCIS Research Monograph Series 2024/1. Colombo: Bandaranaike Centre for International Studies.

Kuik, Cheng-Chwee. 2008. “The Essence of Hedging: Malaysia and Singapore’s Response to a Rising China.” Contemporary Southeast Asia 30 (2): 159–185. https://doi.org/10.1355/cs30-2a.

Li, Mingjiang. 2018. China’s Maritime Silk Road Initiative, Africa, and the Middle East. Singapore: Palgrave Macmillan.

Mahan, Alfred Thayer. 1890. The Influence of Sea Power upon History, 1660–1783. Boston: Little, Brown and Company.

Marx, Karl. 1952. The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte. New York: International Publishers.

Medcalf, Rory. 2020. Indo-Pacific Empire: China, America and the Contest for the World’s Pivotal Region. Manchester: Manchester University Press.

Mignolo, Walter D. 2011. The Darker Side of Western Modernity: Global Futures, Decolonial Options. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.

Pearson, M. N. 2003. The Indian Ocean. London: Routledge.

Rothstein, Robert L. 1968. Alliances and Small Powers. New York: Columbia University Press.

Schweller, Randall L. 1994. “Bandwagoning for Profit: Bringing the Revisionist State Back In.” International Security 19 (1): 72–107. https://doi.org/10.2307/2539149.

Strange, Susan. 1988. States and Markets. London: Pinter.

Thorhallsson, Baldur, and Robert Steinmetz, eds. 2017. Small States and Shelter Theory: Iceland’s External Affairs. London: Routledge.

Till, Geoffrey. 2013. Seapower: A Guide for the Twenty-First Century. 3rd ed. London: Routledge.

Walt, Stephen M. 1987. The Origins of Alliances. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.

Wilson, Ernest J. 2015. Hard Power, Soft Power, Smart Power. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.

 (Author is a former professor of Modern History at the University of Peradeniya. He  could be contacted through Keerawellag@gmail.com)

 

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Vision of Dr. Gamani Corea and the South’s present development policy options

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Dr. Gamani Core / Dr. Carlos Maria Correa

The ‘takes’ were numerous for the perceptive sections of the public from the Dr. Gamani Corea 100th birth anniversary oration delivered at ‘The Lighthouse’ auditorium, Colombo, by Dr. Carlos Maria Correa, Executive Director of the South Centre in Geneva on November 4th. The fact that Dr. Gamani Corea was instrumental in the establishment of the South Centre decades back enhanced the value of the presentation. The event was organized by the Gamani Corea Foundation.

The presentation proved to be both wide-ranging and lucid. The audience was left in no doubt as to what Dr. Gamani Corea (Dr. GC) bequeathed to the global South by way of developmental policy and thinking besides being enlightened on the historic, institutional foundations he laid for the furtherance of Southern economic and material wellbeing.

For instance, in its essential core Dr. GC’s vision for the South was given as follows: sustainable and equitable growth, a preference for trade over aid, basic structural reform of global economy, enhancement of the collective influence of developing countries in international affairs.

Given the political and economic order at the time, that is the sixties of the last century, these principles were of path-breaking importance. For example, the Cold War was at its height and the economic disempowerment of the developing countries was a major issue of debate in the South. The latter had no ‘say’ in charting their economic future, which task devolved on mainly the West and its prime financial institutions.

Against this backdrop, the vision and principles of Dr. G.C. had the potential of being ‘game changers’ for the developing world. The leadership provided by him to UNCTAD as its long-serving Secretary General and to the Group of 77, now Plus China, proved crucial in, for instance, mitigating some economic inequities which were borne by the South. The Integrated Program for Commodities, which Dr. G.C. helped in putting into place continues to serve some of the best interests of the developing countries.

It was the responsibility of succeeding generations to build on this historic basis for economic betterment which Dr. G.C. helped greatly to establish. Needless to say, all has not gone well for the South since the heyday of Dr. G.C. and it is to the degree to which the South re-organizes itself and works for its betterment as a cohesive and united pressure group that could help the hemisphere in its present ordeals in the international economy. It could begin by rejuvenating the Non-aligned Movement (NAM), for instance.

The coming into being of visionary leaders in the South, will prove integral to the economic and material betterment of the South in the present world order or more accurately, disorder. Complex factors go into the making of leaders of note but generally it is those countries which count as economic heavyweights that could also think beyond self-interest that could feature in filling this vacuum.

A ‘take’ from the Dr. GC memorial oration that needs to be dwelt on at length by the South was the speaker’s disclosure that 46 percent of current global GDP is contributed by the South. Besides, most of world trade takes place among Southern countries. It is also the heyday of multi-polarity and bipolarity is no longer a defining feature of the international political and economic order.

In other words, the global South is now well placed to work towards the realization of some of Dr. GC’s visionary principles. As to whether these aims could be achieved will depend considerably on whether the South could re-organize itself, come together and work selflessly towards the collective wellbeing of the hemisphere.

From this viewpoint the emergence of BRICS could be seen as holding out some possibilities for collective Southern economic betterment but the grouping would need to thrust aside petty intra-group power rivalries, shun narrow national interests, place premium value on collective wellbeing and work towards the development of its least members.

The world is yet to see the latter transpiring and much will depend on the quality of leadership formations such as BRICS could provide. In the latter respect Dr. GC’s intellectual leadership continues to matter. Measuring-up to his leadership standards is a challenge for BRICS and other Southern groupings if at all they visualize a time of relative collective progress for the hemisphere.

However, the mentioned groupings would need to respect the principle of sovereign equality in any future efforts at changing the current world order in favour of all their member countries. Ideally, authoritarian control of such groupings by the more powerful members in their fold would need to be avoided. In fact, progress would need to be predicated on democratic equality.

Future Southern collectivities intent on bettering their lot would also need to bring into sharp focus development in contrast to mere growth. This was also a concern of Dr. G.C. Growth would be welcome, if it also provides sufficiently for economic equity. That is, economic plans would come to nought if a country’s resources are not equally distributed among its people.

The seasoned commentator is bound to realize that this will require a degree of national planning. Likewise, the realization ought to have dawned on Southern governments over the decades that unregulated market forces cannot meet this vital requirement in national development.

Thus, the oration by Dr. Carlos Maria Correa had the effect of provoking his audience into thinking at some considerable length on development issues. Currently, the latter are not in vogue among the majority of decision and policy makers of the South but they will need ‘revisiting’ if the best of Dr. GC’s development thinking is to be made use of.

What makes Dr. GC’s thinking doubly vital are the current trade issues the majority of Southern countries are beginning to face in the wake of the restrictive trade practices inspired by the US. Dr. GC was an advocate of international cooperation and it is to the degree to which intra-South economic cooperation takes hold that the South could face the present economic challenges successfully by itself as a collectivity. An urgent coming together of Southern countries could no longer be postponed.

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