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A new Sri Lanka, or more of the old?

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by Uditha Devapriya

What happens to a mass scale uprising when it loses its radical potential? It loses direction, focus, and the will to continue. The protests unfolding in the country have cut across ethnic and social divisions, unifying disparate classes and groups that once warred with each other. One middle-class protester, a private university student, celebrates the IUSF’s entry into the protests and claims that class is a fictional construct that does not matter, that the common enemy is the State, and that the Rajapaksas are their nemeses. Yet when a prominent State university lecturer notes the irony of public university bashing upper middle-class protesters joining hands with the IUSF, she is put down for promoting class divisions.

In a thoughtful post on social media, Dr Chamindra Weerawardhana acknowledges the urge among (predominantly young) protesters to belittle ethnic and class distinctions, but notes that it does the protests no credit to erase those distinctions away. Celebrating a Sri Lankan identity based on a common opposition to political elites, Dr Weerawardhana notes, does not weaken such demarcations but in fact reinforces them. Historically marginalised groups, to give the most obvious example, have been facing the brunt of State power over the last five decades, making any comparisons between them and other more privileged groups and communities rather meaningless, if not downright farcical.

At the ethnic level, there has been much debate over whether the protests ought to incorporate demands for de-militarisation in the north-east, the acknowledgement of war crimes, and opposition to continued harassment of minorities across the country. The Galle Face protests soured a little when a choir brought in to sing the national anthem, ostensibly as a show of unity against the Rajapaksas, did not include the Tamil version. Several tweets and social media posts later, amidst much debate and discussion, the event was re-enacted, this time with the Tamil version intact. Yet that did not keep the debates away.

Two lines of opinion seem to have been drawn over this and similar controversies. On the one hand, protesters fault activists for sowing division in the protests, and for highlighting a very fine distinction that the Rajapaksas and their acolytes can use to pinpoint a lack of unity among the demonstrators. On the other hand, activists argue that there has never been, and never will be, a better time to acknowledge how the country’s laws fail to apply equally to every community, and that opposition to the Rajapaksas ought to take note of systemic flaws that predate the arrival of the First Family. While an overwhelmingly Sinhala speaking crowd embrace the first opinion, I am decidedly in favour of the latter.

Leaderless, though not rudderless, the Galle Face Green protests have highlighted a firm commitment to the overthrow of the status quo. Yet caught up in a movement targeting personalities, even the most ostensibly radical of demonstrations can turn a blind eye to crucial systemic faults. I firmly believe it would be a betrayal of the Galle Face mandate, as it stands, to ignore legitimate concerns, like minority rights, on the pretext that they tend to dilute what the protesters are targeting, namely the removal of the Rajapaksas. The biggest tragedy would be to view these two goals as contradictory, when they are not, and to ignore that these protests have co-opted multiple elements and shades of opinion.

Indeed, the fact that Galle Face Green has been visited by those who opposed the burial of COVID-19 victims, a policy which needlessly distressed the Muslim community, should alert us to the dangers of letting everyone and anyone be a part of these protests. As Rathindra Kuruwita points out in a recent piece to The Diplomat (“Sri Lanka’s Leaderless Protests”), the absence of a political leadership over the Occupy Galle Face movement, while in tune with an anarchist attitude to politics, can in the long term open that movement to the risk of not just infiltration, but also hijacking, by insidious, regressive elements.

It’s the same story at the level of social class. All of a sudden, neoliberal commentators who preached revolution against the Rajapaksas are praising the status quo, on the basis that the government is implementing what they consider to be necessary economic reforms and that these must not be opposed. To be sure, their true colours were apparent from the word go: when the Rajapaksa regime let go of price controls late last year, a prominent spokesperson for this crowd tweeted that though unpopular, it was the correct decision. Yet owing to the mass scale uprisings against price hikes and currency devaluation, not to mention prospects of a recession in the near future, the contradiction between popular demands for relief and neoliberal prescriptions of austerity has become more pronounced than ever.

Past experience should tell us that IMF recommended economic reforms do not, and will not, bring relief to the masses. The Abdel Fattah el-Sisi government in Egypt has negotiated a massive USD 12 billion package from Washington, in return for austerity measures. Far from reducing poverty, such measures have, inter alia, contributed to a hike in the extreme poverty rate from 5.3 percent of the population in 2015 to 6.2 percent in 2017/2018. The results of a biannual report on household finances, published in 2019, clearly give the lie to the claim of IMF reforms benefiting the poorer classes on two counts: that cash transfers will compensate for welfare cuts, and that subsidies benefit a middle-class.

Far from providing relief for the poor and removing “wasteful” subsidies from the middle-class, these measures have further crushed the former and pushed the latter to the very brink of poverty. As Heba al-Laithy, an advisor for the Central Agency for Public Mobilization and Statistics (CAPMAS), which wrote and published the report, clearly notes,

“It is often said that energy subsidies are a waste or that the rich benefit the most from it. This is untrue. The poor do not have cars but they bear the burden of soaring mass transit costs and other indirect impacts of the rise in energy prices…. What happened is that the savings from subsidy cuts were not used in spending on health and education for example… [T]he fiscal savings from subsidy cuts was used to lower the budget deficit while at least 50% should have been allocated to compensate the people.”

More worryingly, all these reforms have been and are being overseen by a patently authoritarian government. Now, the hypocrisy of neoliberal commentators is that they would place the authoritarian tag on regimes that attempt to control and regulate the economy, but not on those that actually use State power to liberalise and deregulate it. This is the paradox that explains why right-wing economic commentators in Sri Lanka demonise the Gotabaya Rajapaksa government’s attempts at controlling prices or restricting imports, while looking back rather nostalgically at the J. R. Jayewardene years.

It’s not that there aren’t alternatives. There are. Howard Nicholas has been touting one alternative for years: a strategy of export-led industrialisation. Yet shot down by neoliberal commentators and fellow travellers, such strategies have never really seen the light of day. Commentators identifying themselves with the right, with IMF reforms, note that they are not just impractical, but require authoritarian political structures, of the sort that South-East Asian countries had during the Cold War. According to this view of things, South-East Asia’s industrialisation experience does not fit Sri Lanka because, unlike the Tiger economies, we are a fully-fledged democracy that cannot afford to go down that path.

While largely accurate, the neoliberal justification of no industrialisation is not a little hypocritical. On the one hand, whether industrialisation requires authoritarianism from the centre or not, IMF austerity certainly does: an inconvenient truth commentators tend to skirt around. On the other hand, such commentators now caution against comparing this country to the South-East Asian experience, arguing that what happened there suited those economies and will not suit ours: a fine enough assertion, except for years, if not decades, Sri Lanka’s neoliberal economists and commentators have been advocating South-East Asian style free market policies and reforms without considering whether, to paraphrase their own shibboleths, what happened there will suit our situation.

Ironic as this may be, it merely pinpoints the neoliberal tendency to cherry-pick. While decrying political authoritarianism of the sort associated with central economic planning, they see no issue with political authoritarianism that goes with economic liberalisation vis-à-vis the IMF. This is why the same political elites who condemn the Rambukkana incident can idealise the Jayewardene years, failing to note the link between neoliberal reforms and working class and peasant resistance which was the hallmark of those supposedly good old days. I believe this needs to be called out for what it is: rank hypocrisy.

The burden, then, is essentially on us: do we protest the Rajapaksas while foregoing on these concerns, or do we view the two along the same lines? It is ridiculous to expect a radical movement against the status quo if we belittle other concerns. Yet that is exactly what a complacent majoritarian and an equally complacent neoliberal tendency among the protesters are leading us to. We need to course-correct, immediately.

The writer can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com



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The Run-Up To The General Elections of July 1977

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Sri Lanka Cabinet Ministers of 23 July 1977

The General Elections were drawing near. There was concurrently a disturbing trend manifesting itself. A vociferous group were demanding that the elections be postponed for a further period, because the government was unable to complete its “progressive” social and economic programme, due to reasons beyond its control such as the insurgency of 1971. the oil price hike, the food crisis and so on. These arguments were patently absurd. The government had already extended its term of office by two years consequent to the introduction of the new constitution.

Now, a group of people were orchestrating a campaign for a further extension. At various public meetings where the Prime Minister attended, members of this group raised their voices and demanded a further extension of time. It appeared to take the form of a popular agitation exerting pressure on the government. No doubt, various persons holding similar views would have been speaking to the Prime Minister personally about the same issue. The whole thing seemed well orchestrated.

It was in this context that one day, she asked my opinion about the matter. I replied that I had always spoken absolutely frankly to her on any and all matters, and in the same spirit all I could say was that any attempt to extend the life of the government would be a total disaster, both for herself and the country. I went on to speak about her considerable achievements, as the world’s first woman Prime Minister; probably also as the first woman to be leader of the opposition in a parliamentary democracy, Head of the Non-Aligned Movement; honouredby the ILO, by their invitation to her, to deliver the keynote address at one of their inaugural sessions; honoured by the FAO by the award of the CERES medal in recognition of her personal and successful leadership of the food production drive consequent to the difficulties of 1974/75; honoured by the United Nations by their invitation to her to deliver the keynote address, at the first UN Conference on Women and Development and other achievements.

Then I told her that if elections were not held at the proper time, the position in the country could get unmanageable, and she would face the charge of destroying democracy in Sri Lanka. I had to be hard, because it was evident that many people had created for her, some kind of fantasy world, and she was getting confused. As was customary, she listened to what I had to say with grace and thanked me for being candid. Then she said, “l have asked WT also, and he said the same thing.”

That was the Prime Minister. She was always prepared to listen to different views, after which, she made up her mind. The dose of reality administered by WT Jayasinghe and myself, two public servants who had nothing to do with politics, would no doubt have helped her to take the final decision of holding elections.

Dealing with political personalities

Before I get to the election itself, I wish to refer to one or two other matters. One of the more important of these relates to some of the political personalities I had to work with, other than the Prime Minister. These included the Minister of Trade, Mr. TB Illangaratne; Mr. Hector Kobbekaduwa, Minister of Agriculture and Dr. Colvin R. de Silva, Minister of Plantation Industries, among others. My dealings with Mr. Maithripala Senanayake, I will refer to separately.

The fact was, that at some time or other one had to deal with practically all members of the Cabinet, since all of them had some business to transact with the Prime Minister’s Office at various times. Some of the ministers I have mentioned had more to do with us, both because of their seniority and the sensitive and important nature of their portfolios. My policy was equal attention and equal treatment for everyone. The internal politics between them did not concern me; neither did the state of relations between the parties in the coalition.

These were political issues that had to be resolved at other fora. I saw my job as attending fairly and diligently to any request or advice sought. There was a creative element in this, because, knowing the prime minister’s mind on many matters I was at times able to steer ministers and others away from courses of action which could have negative consequences. Therefore, many ministers dropped in to discuss some sensitive matter or sometimes to seek advice how best to handle a given situation with the prime minister.

They knew that they could repose trust in the confidentiality of such conversations. At the same time, when I thought that the prime minister had to be briefed on some developing situation, I always said openly that I would have to do so. In some circumstances, the relevant minister and I. only discussed a suitable approach. I did not view my duty to the prime minister as one entailing the carrying of tales or the retailing of gossip and rumours.

However, whenever relevant, gossip and rumours were checked out, because beneath them could lie some real problems. Occasionally, when something was beyond our competence to check, and if it looked important enough the prime minister was briefed. This approach begot a great deal of trust and confidence, so much so that on one occasion, Dr. Colvin R. de Silva told me that he as well as others in the LSSP were extremely sorry that I would not be available for appointment, when a vacancy occurred in the post of Secretary, in the Ministry of Communications, a ministry then held by Mr. Leslie Goonewardena, a senior LSSP minister. In his booming voice, he paid me the compliment of saying that they were not only looking for a secretary but also “a man.”

Besides dealing with ministers and government personalities, the secretary to the prime minister had also to deal with many opposition personalities. They received the same treatment as anybody else. If a request was valid, one worked to grant it. If in a particular instance, politics were proving to be an irrelevant and extraneous factor, one proceeded to remove it. Sometimes, this necessitated talking to the prime minister, and if she too were inclined to see only the politics, one analyzed the issue and pointed out that politics had no relevance to the issue, and that in her position she had to do the right thing. All this meant extra work and effort, but I considered it as part of a duty that had to be performed.

In this context, I was able at times to resolve genuine problems faced by opposition MP’s and personalities such as Mr. R. Premadasa, Mr. Gamini Dissanayake, Mr. Lalith Athulathmudali and others. My belief was that the prime minister’s office of a country should act fairly and justly on all matters referred to it subject to overall government policy. When the occasion so demanded, my endeavour was to point out that irrelevant or extraneous considerations could not be the foundation of good policy. They could be petty revengeful acts, harassment or abuse of power, but never policy, and it was my firm belief that those at the helm of affairs of a country should always distinguish between these.

All these meant an addition to an already nearly crippling workload. There were even times when one continued to work when one had fever, in order to meet impending deadlines. Indeed, there were a few occasions during the seven years I held this post, that when I eventually reached home in the night my temperature had risen to over 104°F.

(Excerpted from In Pursuit of Governance, autobiography of Dharmasiri Peiris, Secretary to the Prime Minister)

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The Paradox of Trump

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Trump

By Uditha Devapriya

In a fortnight marked by dramatic shifts in US foreign policy, particularly on Ukraine and more predictably on Gaza, the changes being wrought by the Trump administration on its immigration policies should not come as a surprise. Yet immigration policies may become the lynchpin of Trump’s approach to the world and his allies. For it’s not just undocumented migrants, drug peddlers, and criminals who are facing the risk of detention or deportation: it’s also citizens of some of Washington’s key allies, including Germany and France. Most if not all of them have complained of harassment and aggressive interrogations, though US immigration officials have denied such claims.

The question is not how Trump can do the seemingly impossible – balancing between the withdrawal of US foreign aid from countries that desperately need assistance, harsh treatment of visa holders from US allied countries, and his rhetoric of being a peacemaker and a dealmaker on the world stage – but whether, in all seriousness, he wants to do it. The problem with many of Trump’s critics – on both the left and the centre – is that they rationalise his actions as part of a wider agenda, when that may not necessarily be the case. True, there is much more predictability – for better or worse – with his policies now, compared to his first term. Yet while there is much madness in his policies and the way he enacts them, there seems to be no proper, cogent method to them, yet.

The other problem is that Trump is launching a full-frontal assault on several fronts, and to isolate the one from the others would be ridiculous. It is hard to pick and choose because, at one strange level, they are all connected. They are implicitly driven by Trump’s brand of isolationism, in which might is right, big fish eat small fish, and, even in rhetoric, moral standards no longer constitute the weight of domestic or foreign policies. The danger with this approach, at least for the Trump administration, is that US institutions have been so used to the opposite of what they are trying to achieve that it will prove to be difficult if not impossible to see these policies through in the longer term.

The US is regularly promoted as a haven for migrants: it is what constitutes the “American Dream” and what has sustained the myth of the melting pot since at least the late 19th century. For better or worse, that myth has come to be accepted as concrete fact, and for the better part of the last century, it is what propelled US soft power on the world stage. Whatever its faults are, the United States has never been short on exchange programmes, fellowships, scholarships, and other initiatives, all sponsored by the State Department, which projected to the world a positive, benevolent image of that country. True, those among us who read and have read on US foreign policy and history know that there was a carefully orchestrated façade beneath these initiatives, that the US, like other powerful countries, has resorted to power and force in the most dubious of circumstances.

Yet immigration, especially during the Cold War, became a sine qua non of US diplomacy. Successive presidents starting from Truman and Eisenhower used their powers to admit migrants from Communist and other seemingly “authoritarian” states. Kennedy started the Peace Corps and USAID, and Senator Fulbright sponsored arguably the US’s most coveted global scholarship programme. All these developments took place against the backdrop of a never-ending battle of hearts and minds with the Soviets and the Chinese, culminating in the South-East Asian wars of the 1960s and 1970s and the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979. The latter marked a turning point in the Cold War: it was the beginning of the end for the Soviet Union. Throughout this period, immigration enabled Washington to claim, not unjustifiably, that whatever its failings were, it at least allowed the young and independent-minded from other parts of the world to come in and prosper.

It is too early to say whether Trump will undo in five years what the country built up in 50. But the travel advisories now being imposed by the US’s staunchest allies, including Germany, indicate a turnaround that the world will take time to adjust to. What the last few weeks have demonstrated is the level of resistance to Executive overreach but also the degree to which the Executive can override otherwise independent institutions, including of course the Judiciary. Every other major official, from the president himself to Elon Musk, Marco Rubio, and Stephen Miller, not to mention the White House Spokesperson, have lambasted “radical left” judges for supposedly disobeying Trump’s orders, claiming it to be a usurpation of democracy. This has been especially true of the judiciary’s confrontations with Trump’s deportation policies and detention orders.

Trump is, in all respects, every US liberal’s nightmare. Yet he is the embodiment of the kind of disruptive politics that was bound to take root in Washington, sooner or later. If Trump’s first term indicated anything, it was that the Democrats need to shield themselves more proactively against the possibility of a second term. In this, however, they failed, partly because of their own willingness to go tough and swing to the right on many issues that Trump officials are doubling down on.

The Democrats now face the unprecedented dilemma of either opposing Trump, especially on issues like immigration, or being depicted by the right-wing press, and Trump’s acolytes, as evil incarnate. Chuck Schumer’s response to this problem was to support the Republican funding bill. If at all, such developments suggest that Democrats are still not awake to the possibilities of an unhinged Trump presidency, and that when they do wake up, it may be too late – both for themselves and the rest of the world.

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More parliamentary giants I was privileged to know

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Lalith Athulathmudali

Lalith Athulathmudali served Parliament for over 14 years as the UNP MP for Ratmalana. He held several important ministerial portfolios. Among these were Minister of Trade and Shipping, Minister of National Security, Deputy Minister of Defense, Minister for Agriculture, Food and Cooperatives as well as Minister of Education and Higher Education.

I initially came to know Lalith as a student at Royal College , though he was a few years younger to me. At Royal he shone exceptionally winning many of the College prizes and excelling in sports, especially athletics. His father Don Daniel Athulathmudali was a Barrister-at-Law and served in the First State Council (1931-1935).

1 distinctly remember his father attending the Royal College prize giving to see his son winning so many prizes and saying that he was keen to send him to Oxford. After his college education he went up to Oxford University where he excelled in the academic fields and brought honour to himself and his country by being the first Sri Lankan to be elected as the President of the Oxford Union. He became a Barrister-at -Law in the UK. He returned to Sri Lanka and made a mark as a lawyer and lecturer in law here as he had in Israel and Singapore.

Having earned many tributes for his eloquence, he was appointed to the 1977 JR Jayewardene cabinet first holding the Ministry of Trade and Shipping and later other other important assignments including Minister of National Security and Minister of Education. As Minister of National Security and Deputy Minister of Defence he proved his mettle during the height of the war against the LTTE. He was responsible for founding the Mahapola Scholarships which, till today, grants students at state universities substantial financial help to continue their university studies.

August 18, 1987, is a day I will never forget. President Jayawardena was in Parliament to address his party’s parliamentary group meeting. The day ended in mayhem with a grenade thrown into the meeting room. As I entered it after the explosion, Lalith lay on a stretcher but was conscious even though he was bleeding profusely from his back. Later I heard he had been seriously injured by the grenade that was thrown into the room as it had ricocheted off the polished table at which President Jayewardene and Prime Minister Premadasa sat and landed under the chair Lalith was seated in the front row making a hole about eight inches wide in the ground.

Lalith was swiftly taken in the ambulance I had placed outside the Member’s Entrance to the House to deal with any possible emergency via the back entrance to Parliament, to the Sri Jayewardenepura Hospital where he was given immediate medical attention. Lalith had especially requested that his doctor friend Dr. K. Yoheswaran be summoned to attend to him. I knew Dr Yoheswaran well too as my late brother, Nissanka Seneviratne, Professor of Physiology and he had been fellow House Officers at the General Hospital many years back. Moreover, my daughter Shanika had a very close friendship with Dr Yoheswaran’s daughter Dilani from their school days, lasting even up to date though Dilani is now domiciled in Boston, USA.

Dr Yoheswaran, who passed away in his nineties, who I met recently told me that at the Sri Jayewardenepura Hospital, there were three surgical teams with Dr S.A.W. Goonewardane, Dr D. Bandaranaike

Dr Yoheswaran, now 92, who I met recently told me that at the Sri Jayewardenepura Hospital, there were three surgical teams with Dr S.A.W. Goonewardane, Dr D. Ranasinghe and himself specially to cater to soldiers who had received injuries at war time and that not a single soldier had died during his surgical career. Dr Rienzie Pieris was the Hospital Chairman at the time.

On the fateful day , Lalith had been in the OPD on the ground floor and then been moved to the operating theatre. He had recognized Dr Yoheswaran instantly. He had been given a blood transfusion but the doctor had decided that immediate surgery was essential and Lalith had inquired if a local anaesthetic could be given to which he said ‘No’. Dr Suriyakanthi Amerasekera was the Anesthetist on duty that day.

The theatre had been crowded with lots of doctors. The surgery had lasted two or three hours as there had been multiple injuries. A colostomy operation was also done removing his spleen. A few days later I visited him in hospital and found him recovering but still weak. I offered him all the services of Parliament to help him have a speedy recovery . Everyone was relieved that after three weeks in the hospital, fully recovered, he was released to go home. Lalith returned to parliament and contributed to debates with great prowess.

A few months later in October 1987, Lalith had proceeded to the USA for a check up to the prestigious Columbia Presbyterian Hospital in New York. A team of three medical specialists had stated that despite the serious injuries he had received, he was now in robust physical condition. Dr Alan Weiss, Consultant in Surgery had tested him from head to toe and singled out for special mention the Consultant Surgeon who had attended on him, Dr K. Yoheswaran.

With the retirement of President Jayewardene and Prime Minister Ranasinghe Premadasa being elected President, there was disquiet within certain sections of the Government and Lalith was among those whose name came up as one not seeing eye to eye with the new Executive. About a year into his first term in office, in 1991, the country and Parliament were all agog with news of an impeachment motion against President Premadasa.

Amidst these developments, Lalith visited me in my room one day and in the midst of a friendly conversation I asked him, “Lalith, why are you rocking the boat?” Lalith promptly replied, “Why are you asking me? Why don’t you ask your Speaker?” hinting that the then Speaker. M. H. Mohamed was privy to the move to impeach the President.

An illustrious politician’s life was cut short when Lalith was shot by an unknown assassin while addressing a political rally in Kirulapone in April 1993. The name of Lalith Athulathmudali finds a firm place in the records of Sri Lanka’s Parliament.

K.B. Ratnayake

K.B.Ratnayake served parliament for over 19 years starting from 1962. He served as Chief Government Whip, Minister of Transport and Minister of Parliamentary Affairs and Sports. He also served as the Speaker of Parliament from 2

August 25, 1994 to October 2000.

I recall his entry to Parliament very well. Educated initially at Hartley College in Jaffna and playing cricket for that school, he was one of the very rare members who spoke fluently all three languages: Sinhala, Tamil and English. He had a warm personality and during his tenure as Parliamentary Affairs and Sports Minister, he worked very closely with us. It was during this time that a new Act of Parliament was introduced by him which provides all Members of Parliament who have served the Legislature for over five years, a lifelong pension.

This Act is still very much in force and all parliamentarians who have served the Legislature for five years are entitled to a pension. This piece of legislation I may add has come in for some valid criticism as the ordinary public servant is entitled to a pension only when he or she has served 10 years or more in a pensionabloe post.

With his warm personality, Mr.Ratnayake endeared himself to all of us serving in the Parliamentary Secretariat. He invited us to his gracious home in Anuradhapura. His daughter Malkanthi was a very distinguished member of the Public Service until her retirement.

I was also privileged to have joined him in the year of my retirement in 1994 when he led a Commonwealth Parliamentary Delegation to Banff in the Province of Ontario in Canada. His warm and friendly personality has left a lasting impression on those of us who had the privilege to work closely with him.

Stanley Tillakaratne

Mr. Tillakaratne served parliament for over 21 years staring from August 1960. He was Speaker of the House from 1970-1977. 1 had the privilege of associating with him from around the time he first entered parliament as the MP for Kotte and so much more during his long period as Speaker. During his time, he was known to be controversial and sometimes a fiery orator. By the time he assumed duties as Speaker; he had mellowed down and sought my advice and help when rulings had to be given as Speaker.

An incident I remember well involved a ruling that had to be given by him over a controversial matter even though I cannot recollect the exact matter. He insisted that I contact Prime Minister Mrs. Sirimavo

Bandaranaike to ask her what she felt about it before he gives his ruling. I told him this was a matter for those of us in Parliament to tackle but as he insisted, I telephoned the Prime Minister. As Mrs. Bandaranaike came to the phone, I prefaced my remarks saying,” Madam, I am ringing you on the Speaker’s instructions.” She snapped back,” Why are you calling me? This is entirely a matter for the Speaker and you.” And the call ended. So, I reported back to him and after much discussion between us, I drafted a ruling for him.

On a slightly personal level, he once told me to help his wife Chandra over a pension matter. When I spoke to Mrs. Tillakaratne, I found that some unknown person had been forging her signature and collecting the pension due to her. I promptly intervened in the matter and I was relieved when she thanked me for my efforts and said that she was receiving her pension.

During his tenure I was privileged to have been the secretary to a parliamentary delegation visiting North Korea where we met with the country’s elusive leader Kim IL Sung. Stanley invited me often to his ancestral house in Kotte where I used to meet his nephew Dr. Susantha Dharmatillake, a dentist and an old friend of mine.

Gamini Jayasuriya

Gamini Jayasuriya served parliament for over 19 years starting from March 1960, Over these years, he served as Minster of Education, Minister of Health, Minister of Agriculture Development and Research and Minister of Food and Co-operatives.

I came to know Gamini as a fellow Royalist and most of all as the representative of Homagama which was the constituency in which my father was born and cremated. I also had the privilege of knowing his wife Sita Hevawitarana and came to know his son Prasanna and wife quite closely. In Parliament, he was well versed on the subjects he spoke on; was always relevant and spoke with great sincerity.

He came to be known for his uprightness and impeccable honesty and integrity.

I will never forget his very kind gesture when he came to my room to speak with me on a personal matter. My doctor father left for me seven acres of coconut land in Katuwana which was in his constituency which I visited only when plucking was taking place. He called on me to apprise me that the Urban Development Authority had identified this land being owned by an absentee landlord and was intending to acquire this land to establish an industrial zone. He warned me about it even though he did not have to only because of our personal relationship.

A few months later, the land was acquired with a gazette notification announcing the takeover. I could not object to it but when compensation was duly paid to me, I told the UDA that the land of seven acres was grossly undervalued and that I should be paid a higher compensation. The UDA kindly increased the original valuation but it was nowhere near the current market price. However I had to be satisfied with that.

In the year 1987, Gamini took the unprecedented step of resigning from his ministerial portfolio, over disagreements with President J.R.Jayewardene over the Indo-Lanka Agreement of that year. He did not stop there. After a few days, he walked into my room and handed over to me his letter of resignation as MP for Homagama. I recall telling him that though he had resigned from his ministerial portfolio, there was absolutely no necessity for him to resign from his Parliamentary seat. My few words were of no avail though I told him Parliament and the country needed people of his stature, education and above all impeccable honesty and integrity. He thanked me and said he would not change his mind. It was a sad day when he said goodbye to Parliament.

A few years later, Gamini passed away and the country lost a principled politician. He is still remembered as a politician who possessed all these noble attributes.

(Excerpted from Memories of 33 year in Parliament by Nihal Seneviratne)

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