By Sena Thoradeniya

1. Introduction

Dr. Sudath Gunasekera in his essay posted in LankaWeb on 15 August 2025 proposes the Government of Sri Lanka, to set up a Memorial Museum of Patriotic Wars of Kandyan Sinhalese (1505-1848) and an International Institute of Postgraduate Research on Colonial Crimes in Sri Lanka”.

Accordingly, the proposed Museum will be designed to tell the pathetic story of the Sri Lanka’s Buddhist Kandyans”, to narrate the cruel saga of three colonial invasions” and highlight the savage crimes committed by the Western invaders with special focus on the 1817- 1818 Uva-Vellassa liberation struggle and the 1848 Matale Uprising respectively. Attention will also be paid to the draconian laws, barbaric and uncivilized methods the invaders deployed to rob country’s riches”. The proposed Museum will also portray the different methods of indigenous warfare of the Sinhalese” including guerilla warfare, visuals of brutalities committed by the colonial invaders” and Sri Lankan heroes of this period. In addition, it is also proposed to set up an International Institute of Postgraduate Research in the fields of colonial invasion”, a library to house all books related to this period”, a theater, lecture rooms, a lab and an Administrative Branch.

The proposal is not only commendable but long overdue. It addresses a pressing need with clarity and purpose and we welcome it without reservation. As someone born and educated in the historic Kandyan kingdom, I feel a deep personal connection to this initiative and extend my wholehearted, unwavering support. It is a step forward that resonates with both heritage and hope.

2. Literature as a Predictive Lens for Future Events

While the following discussion is in no way intended to diminish the brilliance of Dr. Sudath Gunasekera ’s proposal, it is important to recognize a broader intellectual context. Literature has long served as a harbinger of future developments, often anticipating changes in science, technology, and society. Science fiction, for instance, has historically imagined innovations – such as space travel, artificial intelligence and virtual reality – well before their realization in the empirical world. Likewise, novelists frequently perceive or reflect emerging historical and sociological currents, offering prophetic insights into the path of human affairs.

It is therefore obligatory upon historians, political analysts and sociologists to examine how creative writers have anticipated or foretold future events. Such interdisciplinary inquiry supplements our understanding of literature’s predictive power and emphasizes the interdependent relationship between imaginative expression and empirical reality.

Futility” or The Wreck of the Titan” by Morgan Robertson (1898), a luxurious, “unsinkable” ship named Titan striking an iceberg and sinking in the North Atlantic, The World Set Free”  by H. G. Wells (1914), the invention and use of atomic bombs powered by the disintegration of atoms, 1984”  by George Orwell (1949), imagining a dystopian society under constant surveillance, where truth is manipulated and individual freedoms are suppressed, Brave New World” by Aldous Huxley (1932), imagining a future dominated by consumerism, genetic engineering and psychological conditioning, are a few examples from world-renowned authors whose literary works anticipated major historical and societal developments that underscore literature’s remarkable ability to foresee technological and societal transformations.These writers offered prophetic insights into the trajectory of human civilization.

There are many novels that foresaw Socialist Revolution. Of those Mother” by Maxim Gorky (1906), a classic of socialist realism, portraying a working-class woman’s political awakening inspired by revolutionary movements in Russia stands aloft. Les Misérables” by Victor Hugo (1862), set in post-revolutionary France, is a deep social commentary on poverty, justice and redemption, deeply sympathizing with the poor and oppressed.

Why all this elaborate discourse on literature? Simply to affirm that I have established a fictitious Research Centre for Kandyan Affairs and a Museum dedicated to the heroic deeds of the freedom fighters of Uva, Wellassa, Dumbara, and Walapone during the freedom struggle of 1817–1818. These institutions are embedded within the narrative framework of my 772-page epic novel, Saptha Apadana Wasthuwa” (Seven Narratives or Fifty Years After Peradeniya- A New Journey Begins), published in 2011- now fourteen years ago.

My research work titled Dumbara Rata” (in four volumes; volume I published in 2004), offers a detailed account of the genesis of these two conceptual institutions. In 1995, during the launch of my novel Udumbaragira” – which explores the changing patterns of rural leadership in the Kandyan countryside – from traditional structures to contemporary forms – a lady in attendance proposed the establishment of an institute dedicated to Kandyan Studies. Her suggestion may have been inspired by the thematic focus of the novel, which implicitly called for a new field of inquiry- Kandyan Studies.

The proposed institute, tentatively named the Institute of Kandyan Studies, would have required substantial financial support, likely from foreign-funded NGOs or donor agencies. However, due to limited resources and a personal dislike to becoming yet another NGO entity, I chose to set aside the idea. Nevertheless, the vision of these two institutions remained deeply embedded in my imagination.

Having resolved that the study of Kandyan Affairs cannot be pursued through an institutionalized framework but rather as an individual endeavor, I commenced my research in a private capacity. However, upon recognizing the vast scope of the subject – given that the ancient Kandyan Kingdom extended across regions such as Kanda Uda Pas Rata or Sath Rata, Uva, Matale, Sabaragomuwa, Sath Korale, Sathara Korale Maha Disa and Tun Korale, Walapane, Wellassa, Nuwarakalaviya, Tamankaduwa, Uda Palatha, Puttalama, Madakalapuwa, Kottiarama, Panama, Bintenna, Viyaluwa, and Matara Sulu Disa  – I made the well-thought-out decision to narrow the focus of my study. Thus, I confined my study to Dumbara alone, one of the principal Rata of Kanda Uda Pas Rata. Dumbara Rata” stands as the culmination of this focused exploration.

This conceptual foundation later found expression in my 2011 novel, wherein a fictional research institute and museum dedicated to the heroics of the freedom fighters of 1817-1818 were introduced. Over time, this imagined institute began to take on a mythic reality. Friends and acquaintances, upon learning of my visits to Kandy, would often ask if I was going to the Centre and request to accompany me—thus blurring the line between fiction and lived experience.

I do not state that Dr. Sudath Gunasekera borrowed this idea from me, nor am I certain whether he is aware of the existence of such a novel.

It is a recurring observation of mine that historians, political analysts and sociologists of our country lack a substantive understanding of their nation’s art and literature. Conversely, most writers and artists demonstrate limited engagement with historical, political or sociological discourse. This disciplinary divide hampers holistic cultural analysis.  

3. Saptha Apadana Wasthuwa” (Seven Narratives)

Some political and cultural activists who entered the University at Peradeniya in 1961, meet after 50 years in a newly-built Museum and a Research Centre in a picturesque setting in front of Hunnasgiriya Mountains, in Patha Dumbara, Kandy. They come from the four corners of the Island – from the valleys of four major rivers of Lanka Mahaveli, Kelani, Kalu and Walawe. As they travel up to the mountains, they recall their experiences, political involvements, aspirations, sentiments, interventions in art and literary activities and dynamism of a generation. At the same time, they discuss various contradictions that arose during the period in many fields of activity. 

After their meeting they resolve to begin a new journey with the wish, not to abandon the course again; not to see an unfinished end of the journey they began fifty years ago or the new journey ending with another tragedy. They relate eloquently and lucidly that they can rediscover their lost collective legacy and what was denied to them, what they could not achieve, the goal they had missed. Thereby the novel portrays the lives of some bi-lingual intellectuals, political and cultural activists unfortunately became extinct in the 1970s, who attempted to change the existing socio- economic system.

The novel takes the reader on an Odyssey beginning from the mountain passes, rugged river basins and forest covers of Kalupahana Mountains in the Knuckles Range, from tapping kitul trees for its sap in mountain hideouts, to the Sovereign Hill” gold mines, Eureka Centre” and Southern Cross” flag in Victoria, Australia and to Dreamtime” stories of the Aborigines.  It exposes the duplicity of the NGO Movement, international community and the so-called Peace Process” in Sri Lanka hitherto untouched by any novelist. It reveals the decadence of local professionals, officialdom and academics comparing them with their counterparts elsewhere.

The novel has two main parts. The first part takes the reader 50 years back to the Peradeniya University. Two friends of the same batch engage in a discussion about the beginnings of the university movement in Sri Lanka, establishment of a university at Peradeniya and the present degeneration of the university system. They plan to have a meeting of their erstwhile comrades. Of these two characters one is the prime mover of the project who donates a land for the Research Centre and the Museum and the other the financier of the new project. They build a Museum, a Research Centre and a library according to a plan given by an academic- the wife of a comrade killed by the security forces on mistaken identity in 1971 – domiciled in Australia. She comes back to Sri Lanka to work as the Curator of the Museum, Head of the Research Centre and Chief Editor of the journal, leaving an academic career in a prestigious Australian university. The old comrades were invited to attend the inauguration of the Museum and the Research Centre.

The second part of the novel consists of the narratives of each character invited for the big occasion. Recalling what had happened to them during the last fifty years they travel to the Centre. Twelfth or the last chapter depicts the opening of the Museum and the Research Centre.  

The novel ends on a positive note, providing hopes for a new beginning.   

4. Conceptualizing the Creation of a Museum: A Reflection on Historical Memory and National Identity

The idea of establishing a museum dedicated to Sri Lanka’s fallen heroes emerged during my visits to several historically significant sites in Victoria, Australia – namely Ballarat’s Sovereign Hill, the abandoned gold mines and the Eureka Centre (Eureka, gold miners’ hope for wealth and prosperity). These spaces commemorate the Eureka Rebellion of 1854, where gold miners took up arms against the oppression, torture, brutal and corrupt management and the oppressive licensing system imposed by colonial authorities. Though the uprising lasted only a half hour and resulted in approximately 28 deaths, its legacy has been immortalized through museums and monuments. Eureka Centreexhibits the story of the gold miners and reforms that followed the revolt.

Eureka Stockade, Eureka Stockade Memorial Park,  Eureka Flag (or the Southern Cross Flag woven by the wives of gold miners, (gold miners took their oath under it; original flag now housed at Ballarat Museum), detailed display of the Eureka Rebellion,  diorama (digital displays reenacting events) and the Contemplation Space (a quite atmosphere for the visitors to think and absorb the historical significance of the events), lectures and events are the main attractions of the Eureka Centre. (Please read my novel Yaara Yathrika” (Navigator of the River Yaara – 2015).

This experience prompted a profound reflection on the total absence of similar commemorative efforts in Sri Lanka. The British colonial massacres of 1818 and 1848 – both far more devastating in scale and consequence than the Eureka Rebellion – have not received equivalent institutional recognition. These uprisings, which saw thousands of Sri Lankans resist imperial domination, were met with brutal suppression, yet their memory remains marginal in the national consciousness, limited to annual commemorations by some dedicated personnel and micro level commemorative societies in the provinces.

It was in this context that I conceptualized the creation of a museum—not merely as a repository of artifacts, but as a space for historical reckoning, cultural affirmation and intergenerational dialogue. If a brief rebellion like Eureka warrants such extensive memorialization, then surely the sacrifices of Sri Lanka’s freedom fighters demand hundreds of museums across Uva, Vellassa, Walapone, Dumbara, Hewaheta, Harispattuwa and Matale. These institutions would serve not only to honor the fallen but also to educate future generations about the national pride, refusal of subjugation, defiance of oppression, rejection of foreign domination and servitude, courage and vision of those who resisted colonial subjugation and of course the brutality of the invaders.

Drawing inspiration from the Eureka Centre, the characters of the novel stroll through the Commemoration Park, explore the exhibits within and visit the lecture hall, library, diorama and contemplative space, where a profound dialogue unfolds, mapping out future political plans and strategies of this core group.

5. Prospects and Challenges for Establishing a Memorial Museum of Patriotic Wars of Kandyan Sinhalese Under the Current Government

Historical Commemoration and Political Realities

When we are evaluating the feasibility of this proposal, we must be mindful of historical commemoration and political realities. State-sponsored memory and minority politics will play a major role in this venture. The present Government will never endorse such a Museum. Foreign – funded NGO fraternity and Western governments will ring alarm bells to the tune of national reconciliation and pluralism compromised with national memory, clamoring that the politics of commemoration of historical heroes has no place in contemporary Sri Lanka. They will ask “Whose History Is It?

Commercial Priorities Over Commemoration

Dr. Sudath Gunasekara has proposed to establish the Memorial Museum of Patriotic Wars of Kandyan Sinhalese” at the historic Bogambara Prison site in Kandy. The site faces significant hurdles – chief among them, the value and strategic importance of the land itself. Located in the heart of the city, this prime property spans over 13 acres and is estimated to be worth billions of rupees. Its central location and colonial architecture have made it a magnet for commercial interest.
Plans are already underway to transform the site into a luxury hotel and high-end shopping complex. The previous government has approved redevelopment proposals that include a five-star hotel, a shopping mall, food courts and budget accommodations, while preserving the prison’s colonial façade.

Museum Proposal vs. Investment Agenda

This vision clashes with the government’s economic and cultural agendas. For a regime grappling with economic instability and dictates of the IMF, investments even in casinos and cannabis (ganja) takes precedence over historical commemoration – especially when the subject involves village-level guerilla resistance movements that do not remain even marginally in both historical and cultural memory of the JVP/NPP.

Cultural Amnesia and Political Will
Uva-Wellassa uprising of 1817–1818 and the Matale revolt of 1848 are scarcely remembered in mainstream narratives, limited to annual commemorations by some dedicated personnel and micro level commemorative societies in the provinces as stated above.

Their absence from collective memory makes it politically convenient for the politicians to sideline such commemorative efforts. In a climate where economic survival surpasses historical reflection, the proposed museum risks being dismissed as a romanticized relic of the past.

My ancestral village lies adjacent to the ancient Ethgala Para, a historic route that once connected the Kandyan Kingdom with the island’s principal sea ports. Alongside this strategic pathway, the British established a fort during the early 19th century to consolidate their control over the region. In 1818, during the Uva–Wellassa Uprising, this fort came under attack by the valiant Dumbara warriors, led by Amunugama Bathwadana Nilame. Although the assault was ultimately repulsed, the event stands as a testament to the fierce resistance mounted by local freedom fighters against colonial domination. Tragically, the memory of this fort, the ancient route and the heroic struggle of the Dumbara warriors has faded from local consciousness. Today, none of the residents in the vicinity are aware of an ancient bridle path, a fort and a battle and their historical significance.

At the same time, it would be unrealistic to expect meaningful support from the current Minister of Cultural Affairs, whose upbringing in a Catholic environment may not have instilled a deep appreciation of historical and cultural memory. Compounding this concern is the past conduct of his Deputy, who despite donning saffron robes – a symbol of monastic commitment-was alleged in actions that led to the near destruction of a structure of profound importance to the Buddhist community. Such contradictions raise serious questions about the sincerity and capacity of the present leadership to champion these initiatives.

In my article titled Black Smoke Billows from Pelawatta Chimney,” published in Lankaweb on 16 May 2005, I examined the implications of the recently concluded local government elections, with focus on the political messaging emerging from the Jaffna District. Notably, an MP affiliated with the National People’s Power (NPP) released a series of campaign songs that were overtly sympathetic to the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE). These songs, disseminated in the lead-up to the elections, pledged to erect a bronze statue of LTTE leader Velupillai Prabhakaran, construct a new harbor and a memorial hall dedicated to Prabhakaran’s parents and undertake the reconstruction and maintenance of LTTE cemeteries. Furthermore, the MP vowed to rename the Nallur Sankiliyan Park as Kittu Park,” in honor of Sathasivam Krishnakumar (alias Kittu), a senior LTTE commander. These pledges, reflect a broader strategy of memorialization and identity politics that clash with the proposed Memorial Museum.

Under the proposed educational reforms by the NPP government, there is a plan to eliminate History and Buddhism from the school curriculum. The government intends to introduce a new cultural celebration in December, designed to be inclusive of all ethnic and religious communities. While this initiative may be framed as a move toward national unity, it raises serious concerns about the erosion of Sri Lanka’s rich cultural and religious heritage. Such a shift could signal the gradual phasing out of deeply rooted traditions such as the Sinhala and Tamil New Year, Wesak, Poson, and Christmas celebrations that have long served as vital expressions of communal identity and historical continuity. This represents a profound rupture in the cultural fabric of the nation.

Given the current trajectory of government policy, the proposed museum appears to be nothing more than a pipe dream, an initiative that fails to account for the prevailing political climate and the government’s demonstrated priorities. The assumption underlying its conception seems naïve, as if the government were a school administration run by inexperienced students, capable of safeguarding historical and cultural legacies. Such misreading of governmental behavior undermines the credibility and feasibility of the project.

Political and Ideological Opposition

Beyond the logistical and economic challenges, the proposal to establish a museum commemorating Kandyan resistance faces a complex web of political and ideological opposition. Key stakeholders aligned with the current administration- including NGOs, segments of the Tamil diaspora, remnants of the LTTE and various minority communities such as Tamils, Muslims and Upcountry Tamils – may perceive such a commemorative project as politically sensitive or exclusionary. Any project that highlights Sinhala nationalist ideas becomes especially controversial for them.

Institutional actors such as the Catholic Church, Western Embassies and Governments and regional powers like India – each of which played a role in the current regime change are likely to scrutinize the museum’s ideological framing. Moreover, advocacy groups including the LGBTIQ community, a vocal ally of the present regime, may challenge the museum if it is seen to reinforce majoritarian or exclusionary historical narratives.

International Oversight

International oversight further complicates the matter. The United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights has consistently urged the Sri Lankan government to amend or repeal certain laws, accede to the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (ICC) and initiate accountability processes for alleged wartime abuses. Proposals for external investigations, targeted sanctions and constitutional reforms reflect a broader push for compliance with international human rights norms – an agenda that may conflict with domestic efforts to valorize historical figures labeled as war heroes” within nationalist discourse.

6. Conclusion

Anura Kumara is no Mahinda- he wouldn’t dare tell the modern-day Kushners and Milibands to stage their diplomatic kite festival elsewhere, preferably over an abandoned, sun-scorched reservoir in Ruhuna!

As a son of Patha Dumbara, I conceptualized the idea of a Museum and Research Centre and even went so far as to establish fictitious prototypes. However, it was Dr. Sudath Gunasekara, a son of Uda Dumbara, who independently formally proposed the initiative and developed its blueprints. Should this vision ever come to fruition, full credit rightfully belongs to him as its original initiator.