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

By Shamala Kumar

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

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

Errant Vice Chancellors

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

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

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

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

Power arrangements

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

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

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

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

Compliance and resistance

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

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

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

(The author teaches at the University of Peradeniya)

Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.