1970 election results, I get my marching orders and Dudley’s death

(Excerpted from Rendering Unto Caesar, by Bradman Weerakoon)

Mrs Bandaranaike’s United Front was returned to power with a total of 116 members. The SLFP won 91 seats – a record up to then – and its two Marxist allies, the Trotskyite LSSP won 19 and the Communist Party six seats. The elections had left Dudley’s UNP with only 17 seats in Parliament and he had barely made it in his own constituency, Dedigama. He had won the family pocket borough in 1965 with a majority of several thousands. This time round he could win with only a majority of just over 1,000 votes and that too after a re-count, to a novice in politics, the affable Dharmasiri Senanayake whose campaign tactics and manner had won Dudley’s warm appreciation. In fact he had confided to me some weeks after the campaign had started that he had at long-last found the perfect man to succeed him in Dedigama, but that he belonged to the wrong party.

Dudley resigns before all the results were in

The 1970 elections were a disaster for Dudley. He thought he had done well enough especially on the food production area and the prospect he had held out to the electorate of self-sufficiency in our staple dietary needs, and power through the Mahaweli ganga Diversion proposed scheme to win comfortably. Indeed G V P Samarasinghe, the secretary of defence and external affairs and Neville Jayaweera in broadcasting and information were quite confident that the UNP would win through easily. But the swing to Sirimavo was phenomenal and confounded all predictions. She won 91 seats and Dudley was reduced to 17.

The way in which he left office for the last time was characteristic of the man. We were all at Woodlands to see him come back that morning. He had been out the whole night at the count at the Kegalle Technical School. It had been a close fight and Nimal Karunatilaka, then his press secretary, had heard on the radio that he had lost and a re-count had been ordered by the returning officer since the margin was very close. As it turned out Dudley had won but only, with a reduced majority of 1,076 votes.

As the car drew up under the porch, he grinned broadly and said, “Hell of a thing, no,” and begged to be excused for a moment as he rushed up the stairs shouting out that he must “empty my bladder”. First things first was his motto. When he came down Nimal wondered how we could manage to stay on and suggested an immediate summoning of the cabinet to plan strategy. “What cabinet?” he queried. “All the fellows have lost. Bradman, get the resignation letter ready.” He had been through it all before.

When the umpire rules you out, you walk

I rushed back to my office in Senate Square to prepare the resignation letter. We had it signed around eleven and by noon the Governor-General, Gopallawa had the letter in his hands. I went back to my office and began the now familiar task of clearing out my drawers. I was quite certain that this would surely be my last time in that office.

The 1970 elections saw democracy at full throttle. But the anomaly which the “first past the post” electoral system had engendered, was evident once more. While the UNP with 37.9 per cent of the popular vote was only able to secure 17 seats, the SLFP with 36.9 per cent of the total votes had secured 91 seats.

I get my moving orders

The sweeping majority, which Mrs Bandaranaike and her United Front government had obtained, enabled the government to have a two thirds majority and institute major policy changes. But one of the first of her acts was the very practical one of changing her senior staff. I was standing by at home for the news and it came within the next few hours. Dharmasiri Pieris phoned and informed me that Mrs Bandaranaike had asked him to be her secretary.

I was delighted and invited him over to my home at de Fonseka Pace for a handing-over chat. Dharmasiri was the ideal candidate – his relations with Mrs Bandaranaike, which had officially begun in the prime minister’s office in the 1960-1965 era when he was assistant to me, were excellent. He had successfully avoided being marked as political in any sense; he had a clear and logical mind and was circumspect in coming to a decision.

He would stick with any difficult assignment and not give up or pass it to another. Above all, he was a sportsman and played by the rules of the game. We had often partnered each other in difficult situations at the crease and had a mutual respect and admiration for each other’s cricketing skills. I had no doubt at all that he would turn in another superlative performance, and he did.

Dudley suffers massive heart attack and passes on

Soon after the reconciliation between Dudley and J R in 1973, Dudley who was only 62, passed away after suffering three heart attacks. He was taken to Durdans from his Woodlands home but the cardiac arrest could not be averted.

After his first attack and on hearing the news in Batticaloa, I decided that I should drive down to Colombo to see him since I had heard that he was critically ill. That was one time in my career that I did not have to wait for my leave to be approved. I just downed tools, got into my car and drove down to Colombo. He was conscious when I walked upstairs to his room. I clasped his hand and he smiled wanly. That was the last time I saw him alive for late that night he passed away.

I stayed in Colombo for the funeral and what a funeral that was! He died while in the opposition and he was only a Member of Parliament – holding no office, but Colombo had never seen signs of mourning such as this. There was no bus transport on the day of his funeral, perhaps because the government had deemed it so, but that did not stop the people from coming. At one point at Galle Road, they were about eight-deep walking in an informal procession which stretched for miles from the south into Colombo. At the Independence Square where a great pyre had been constructed, an enormous orderly crowd assembled.

On my having been Secretary when he was the last prime minister, I had a ringside seat to watch the proceedings. Even in a country where funerals are usually very elaborate, Dudley Senanayake’s on April 21, 1973 was an extraordinary one. It was estimated that over one million people attended the funeral at Independence Square that day. It was not a state funeral since Dudley at that time held no official position. He was only a member in the opposition. J R Jayewardene captured the mood of the vast crowd in his funeral oration that evening with a quotation from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, which he enriched in style. As the flames rose around the casket of his comrade-in-arms, at sunset that evening, JR bade him a moving farewell:

“Goodnight sweet Prince,
May hosts of devas sing thee to thy sleep,
he intoned in his deep voice, as many in the vast crowd wept openly.