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A strategy for leftists and nationalists

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by Uditha Devapriya

Since at least 1977, nationalists and leftists have constantly been defining themselves against one another. The key years in which this gulf widened would be 1980 (the July strike), 1982 (the presidential election), 1983 (the anti-Tamil pogrom and the proscription of the Left), and 1987 (the Indo-Lanka Accord). What we see in those years is a middle-class abandoning the Left: partly on account of an ideological turnaround, but also, more crucially, on account of the different trajectories such ideologies took following J. R. Jayewardene’s liberalisation of the economy. The result of this was, simply, that a nascent middle-class bourgeoisie, disillusioned with the prospects of Marxism in Sri Lanka, turned away from socialist politics and began to articulate an exclusivist and communalist ideology.

The dangers and limitations of this world-view have been addressed by several intellectuals within the Left. Yet the question can be raised as to how effective such critiques have been in exposing the flaws of an ideology which appeals to an upward aspiring middle-class. Do we then need to come up with an alternative critique, one that reveals the flaws of communalism more effectively? If so – and there’s no doubt that we ought to – what should the objective of such a critique be: the abandonment of Sinhala nationalism in toto, or the abandonment of its more regressive aspects and the fusion of its progressive elements with the radical Left? I, for one, prefer the latter approach. But do Left intellectuals advocate it?

For the most, they do not. One can ask why, but there are far more important questions. How is it that socialism, which once cohered well with nationalism (even Sinhala nationalism) in the country, came to divorce itself from the wellsprings of nationalist thought? How is it that nationalists shed themselves of their earlier commitment to left-wing anti-imperialism? How is it that their world-view shifted from the writings of Frantz Fanon and Aimé Césaire to the rhetoric of what scholars have labelled as “clerico-fascists”? How is it that progressives in the nationalist camp no longer seem willing to side with the Left?

I suggest that the answers to these questions lie in two matters: the post-1977 trajectory of intellectual formations allied with the Left, and the response of these formations to not just Sinhala nationalism, but the idea of Third World nationalism in general.

The first matter is easy to figure out. In a provocative critique of Edward Said (“Orientalism and After: Ambivalence and Cosmopolitan Location in the Work of Edward Said”), Aijaz Ahmad makes an interesting point about Third World intellectuals: that with the retreat of the Left across the world, many of them aligned themselves with a left-wing intellectual formation while spouting an “openly and contemptuously anti-communist” line.

These trends picked up with the onset of the neoliberalisation of Third World societies. They led to two crucial outcomes: the exodus of academics allied with the Left to a donor funded, “postmodern” civil society sphere, and the neglect of such classical Marxist concerns as class in favour of such micro-political “single issues” as ethnic identity.

Before one reads this as a complete abandonment of class in socialist polemics, it must be pointed out that classical Marxists concerns were, in fact, deployed from time to time by the new NGO outfits. Marxism was used extensively in support of Tamil nationalist aspirations, even in support of Tamil secessionism, by a number of intellectuals.

Yet its application was, for the most, selective and arbitrary: as the years passed, people saw it as favouring a minority discourse over, and against, the claims of Sinhala nationalism. I certainly believe Marxist intellectuals erred in advocating the one and criticising the other. But this is not to say that siding with Sinhala nationalists would have been right either; a more correct strategy would have been to shoot down both Tamil and Sinhala claims: the line taken up by Tamil leftists in opposition to the Sinhala Only Act in 1956.

“This is not the time… for despair and anger for the Tamil people, but one for sustained opposition to injustice and sustained effort for the formation of a Government of justice. In no case must Tamil people think in terms of division; instead they must think of building the closest unity with the Sinhalese people… [I]t is very curious but true that there are only two nationalist parties in the country, namely, the LSSP and the Communist Party, and that all other parties have given up their national character, having become sectional political parties.” (P. Kandiah, Debate on the Official Language Act No.33, 1956)

Three points undergird Kandiah’s opposition to the Act: that legislation denying the rights of a community to its own language must be seen as a national and not ethnic issue; that Tamil people must form a broad alliance with their Sinhala counterparts; and that the Left is more eminently nationalist than communalist “sectional” parties.

By the latter, Kandiah includes not just the SLFP , but also the ACTC and the Federal Party, as well as the UNP, whose most prominent voice in parliament, J. R. Jayewardene, fired the first shot in the language debate four years before independence by “proposing” Sinhala Only. Grouping these outfits together, Kandiah then presents them as birds of a feather pandering to different forms of communalist nationalism. Having done so, he comes up with a critique of such nationalism from a class perspective: a perspective that could have been ably projected against the authoritarian neoliberal right in the 1980s.

That such a perspective was abandoned tells us a great deal about the strategies preferred and taken by the Left in later decades. While it would be wrong to conclude that the abandonment of such an approach led from the NGO sector’s co-option of sections of the Marxist Left, it is not wrong to see that process of co-option on a continuum, from the “neoliberalisation” of the economy after 1977 and the infusions of foreign aid which accompanied the “opening up” of the economy. In that scheme class no longer mattered: detached from the realm of production relations, identity politics became the mantra of the New Left.

This turnaround had its roots in the Left’s critique of all forms of Sinhala nationalism. Dayan Jayatilleka’s distinction between the patriotism of Weera Puran Appu and that of Anagarika Dharmapala is not necessarily one I agree with, yet it is far more nuanced than other such critiques. It is at once critical of the tribalist character of such nationalism and welcoming of its more progressive aspects. Yet such analyses are exceptional and rare.

Aijaz Ahmad explains what happened next: “Among critiques that needed to be jettisoned were the Marxist ones, because Marxists had this habit of speaking about classes, even in Asia and Africa. What this new immigration needed were narratives of oppression that would get them preferential treatment, reserved jobs, higher salaries in the social position that they already occupied: namely, as middle class professionals, mostly male.” In other words, these Left intellectuals, having given up class as a frame of reference, embraced other critiques that helped them join the ranks of a civil society salatariat.

Sinhala nationalists contributed to this state of affairs also. The Left’s cooption by NGOs essentially mirrored Sinhala nationalism’s departure from the Left. This is perhaps putting things in too reductive a light, but the point is that it happened, and that by the 1980s, the gulf between the two – nationalism and Marxism – had widened enough to warrant a breach, or a disjuncture, which led both to embrace establishments, institutions, and ideologies outside the political establishment: the Left to a donor funded civil society, and Sinhala nationalism to a communalist, chauvinist fringe. To blame the Left only here is to see the matter in favour of one side: the truth is that by ceding territory to right-wing politics, Sinhala nationalists did not just abscond from a progressive intellectual formation, it also “lost” the most progressive ally it could count on to a “third estate” hostile to both Marxism and nationalism.

What we need is a critique of both these processes – the “NGO-fication” of the Left and the radicalisation of Sinhala nationalism – which does not pit the one against the other. To put it in another way, we need a critique of the New Left that does not demonise Marxism from a nationalist standpoint, and a critique of Sinhala nationalism that does not deny its essentially progressive, anti-imperialist character.

I concede this is a difficult enterprise, but I believe it must be achieved, sooner than later. I say so because a rift between Marxism and nationalism can only speed up the distancing of the one from classical Marxist concerns and of the other from its anti-imperialist heritage. To allow this to happen would be to let both Marxism and nationalism abandon their progressive moorings. To allow that to happen would certainly be a tragedy.

The writer can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com



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The Aftermath of the Parliamentary Elections of 1970

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Lessons from my Career; synthesising management theory with practice – Part 2

by Sunil G Wijesinha

The Kamkaru Anduwa

I was in the last year of my training and stationed at the State Engineering Pre-cast Yard at Narahenpita. I was on a unique project experimenting with a concrete boat modelled on a popular FAO wooden fishing boat design. The election fever was at its peak. The workers had high hopes for a “Workers Government” (Kamkaru Anduwa). They were expecting a “dictatorship of the proletariat, ” hoping to end all their woes. They were promised the establishment of “Janatha Committees”, which would oversee the work of the officers and engineers. The spirits were high because the UNP government was no longer popular, and the United Front coalition led by the SLFP was tipped to win in a landslide.

I was very careful and avoided any semblance of affiliation or partiality to any ideology. One of my colleagues was a diehard Samasamajist who would forward compelling arguments as to why socialism and a state-run economy would be the best for the country.

The Aftermath

Election Day was, as usual, a holiday. By the early hours of the next morning, it was clear that the United Front of Mrs Bandaranaike, along with the Trotskyites (Samasamajists) and the Communist Party had won convincingly. When I arrived at my worksite that morning, what I witnessed was shocking. The Works Manager was pulled out of his office by the workers and kicked out of the site. It was celebrations and rejoicing and hooting and jeering. No one was working. No one was in charge. It was anarchy.

My boss, who was stationed at the Head Office, decided to make a site visit. He obviously chose the wrong day. As he arrived, he was greeted by the workshop union leader with lit crackers thrown at his body. There was nothing I could do against a massive hostile crowd. Being a burly man, he charged at them, and they all retreated but quickly returned with even more crackers. Finally, my boss decided to exit and beat a hasty retreat. The workers were jeering and hooting until he was out of sight. He had done no wrong, but unfortunately, he was a part of the “bourgeois” who the workers despised.

One of the foremen who often participated in our arguments during tea and lunch breaks remarked, “Mr Wijesinha, we have still not figured out which party you supported.” I was thankful for my neutrality. If not, I would have been one of those who were driven out with crackers.

A little while later that day, a gang of red-shirted supporters arrived, led by a well-known Samasamajist. He addressed the cheering workers about the wonders that would soon unfold and demanded that all stop work and come to a celebratory meeting near the Regal cinema.

We, too, left the site in the early afternoon because we had to attend a scheduled monthly lecture by a senior engineer at the Head Office. The subject was “Labour Management”. After arriving at the Head Office, we learned of the horrors that morning. The General Manager had been forced to kneel and worship a photograph of Mrs Bandaranaike. We noticed many professionals in groups discussing the future for them while many at lower levels were celebrating. Some of the engineers left the country a couple of months later. We got the news that there was no celebratory meeting near the Regal cinema, but it was a ruse to collect people to attack Lake House, which was believed to have supported the defeated UNP.

When our lecturer didn’t turn up for the lecture, I went to his office to remind him that we were waiting for him and that it was well past time. He responded that having observed the new environment unfolding, he could no longer lecture on “Labour Management.” We were happy to go home early that day.

The next morning, the situation at the site was very different. The workers were discussing and boasting about how many Lake House typewriters they smashed, how many bundles of newspapers they set on fire, and so on. It took a couple of days to restore some order at the site.

In a few months, the Euphoria was over. The workers who would telephone their political masters and address them as Comrade (Sahodaraya) began to drop this salutation and addressed them as Sir, much to the amusement of the officers. The workers realised very soon that a Kamkaru Anduwa was, in reality, not what they imagined and that it was not going to be. However, perhaps in frustration or anger, the Golf Links Housing site experienced a riot. The workers set upon the management for no apparent reason. It took months for peace to return to the pre-election level.

Learning Lessons

Labour management was never the same again, and this was a major turning point. Gone were the days when officers could shout at, could throw their shoes at, punish, and penalise workers at their whims and fancies. While the carnival was over for the workers, the management also learned many lessons.

I did some reflection in the following months, having learnt in theory how labour management had evolved historically. First, it was the KITA style (meaning “kick in the arse”) type management, then came the Frederick Taylor movement, where engineers designed the best way and only the “hands” of the workers were used. Thereafter came the Human Relations School of Management with a more humanistic approach to management. In other words, they proposed treating the worker not merely as a pair of hands but as a human being with a “heart” and feelings. Finally, the Japanese proposed that the in addition to hands and a heart the worker has a significant unused potential: the brain.

At one of the lectures by a senior engineer, we were guided on a more humanistic approach to management. His advice was never call a worker by his number (which we would often do), help him in difficult times, never financially penalise a worker (badata gahanna epa), give small inexpensive gifts to their children. I followed this good advice. It was bolstered and became more systematic after learning the Japanese concepts with similar philosophies in later years. I have been successful in managing labour and unions. The paradigm shift in thinking has been beneficial to the country, although I have often been accused of being a Marxist or a person who spoils the workers. Nevertheless, I will vouch for my approach to labour management using 1970 as a turning point where we all learnt lessons.

(Consultant on Productivity and Japanese Management Techniques
Retired Chairman/Director of several Listed and Unlisted companies.
Awardee of the APO Regional Award for promoting Productivity in the Asia and Pacific Region
Recipient of the “Order of the Rising Sun, Gold and Silver Rays” from the Government of Japan.
He can be contacted through email at: bizex.seminarsandconsulting@gmail.com)

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Environment and Climate Change: Missing Link in Sri Lanka- India bilateral relations

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PM Narendra Modi with Sri Lankan President Anura Kumara Dissanayake

by Dr Sarala Fernando

The detailed Joint Statement issued on December 16, 2024 after President Dissanayake’s State Visit to India lists a number of areas covered in the bilateral discussions: Political Exchanges, Development Cooperation, Training and Capacity Building, Debt Restructuring, Building Connectivity, Energy Development, Peoplecentric Digitization, Education and Technology, Trade and investment Cooperation, Agriculture and Animal Husbandry, Strategic and Defence Cooperation, Cultural and Tourism Development, Fisheries issues and Regional and Multilateral Cooperation.

The missing link is evident – how can the two countries ignore the signs of climate crisis everywhere? As I write there are devastating wildfires in California, the largest ever ice block to break off from the Arctic is heading towards the UK which is experiencing unprecedented heavy storms. In the last year alone, Asia has experienced a number of major earthquakes of over 7 Mw since Honshu in Japan on January 1 2024, to Taiwan, Indonesia, PNG, China, Vanuatu and now Tibet on January 8, 2025. The climate crisis also includes the unprecedented loss of biodiversity and extinction of entire species. As an island vulnerable to both man- made and natural disasters, should not Sri Lanka make environmental protection and climate change a central topic in all its bilateral discussions with foreign partners?

While the official emphasis is usually on economic diplomacy, we tend to forget that since historical times visitors came to this island attracted by tales of its natural beauty and nature’s treasure of resources. This is why it is incomprehensible that while Buddhism is given pride of place in our Constitution, the values this philosophy enshrines of compassion for all living beings and protection of nature and wildlife are somehow ignored.

Take by contrast the language in the Indian Constitution which states: “It shall be the duty of every citizen of India to protect and improve the natural environment including forests, lakes, rivers and wildlife and to have compassion for living creatures.” (51 (a) g) Then there is also Article 48 prohibiting the slaughter of cows, calves, and other milch and draft cattle, calling upon government to organize agriculture and animal husbandry on modern and scientific lines, preserving and improving breeds. Here one recalls the sterling efforts of our former Speaker Lokubandara who drew attention to the plight of the “kiri-amma” in Sri Lanka and called for this country to take an example from India and ban its slaughter.

Yet, it seems today that we are more interested to promote a gun culture in this country, from the minister who openly calls on farmers to use any means to protect their fields to the schools where pistol and rifle shooting, archery have become national sports to be encouraged among school children. Do they not see where the freedom to carry guns has taken the United States to such a plight that not a day goes by without a school shooting and unnecessary deaths?

Some argue that infrastructure growth, for example, should be prioritized over environment and climate change. It is I suppose easy to quantify the building of a bridge over protection of the environment of which the impact will be seen mainly by coming generations. Yet there is good news in Sri Lanka, thanks to the efforts of dedicated researchers like Dr Prithiviraj Fernando and Wildlife department experts, who have made progress in promoting the co-existence of both farmers and elephants through careful electric fencing over farmlands taking care not to interrupt elephant corridors which fencing then is removed when the harvest is taken and the stubble left for the elephants to graze upon.

There was also good news recently reported from Haggala Wildlife Range covering Talawakelle, Kotmale and Walapane in a land area of 95,000 hectares where an effective plan to protect the hill country leopards has resulted in no leopard deaths. The plan comprised 22 public awareness programs and search operations to remove 320 leopard traps. The bad news is that so many traps may suggest organized criminal attempts to trap leopards perhaps to feed the exotic animal parts trade in East Asia, which is something our police should be following up on.

A special environmental protection and climate change plan between Sri Lanka and India is required to anticipate the risks and train in disaster management, drawing upon the exchanges of experience and knowledge of scientists in the different fields. I am remembering the speech made by Prof MS Swaminathan many years ago at the Lakshman Kadirgamar Institute when he foresaw already the impact of climate change on agriculture patterns in India which would turn previous productive areas to desert and requiring training farmers to adapt to new crops and new conditions which would come inevitably.

Protection of the maritime areas between Sri Lanka and India should be prioritized including monitoring of the fish stocks and health of the seabed and the very existence of the sand banks which comprise Adams bridge. Sri Lanka would benefit from training in managing ports receiving hazardous cargo so that disasters like Express Pearl of May 20, 2021 should never happen again. By June 2021, twenty five billion small plastic nurdles had spilled, comprising the worst such spill ever recorded in the world, poisoning the surrounding waters from which the remains of 417 turtles, eight whales and 48 dolphins were recovered.

In this light, one wonders how Sri Lanka can manage the safety of the proposed oil and gas pipelines proposed to boost “connectivity ” with India and what safeguard is there that this link will not be blocked someday for political reasons as we see in Europe today? The safety of undersea pipelines is already in the news with cables apparently cut in the Baltic Sea and in the contested waters of the South China sea between the Philippines and China.

Sri Lanka and India once had a land connection and even now an island separated from a continent, there are many points of comparison and subtle differences. For example, while craftsmen and artistic traditions came from India, Prematilleke argued that in all aspects of ancient Sri Lankan art , “the inspiration drawn from contemporary ornate and exuberant Indian art tradition was mellowed down to a restrained charm and simplicity”. This relationship of subtle difference is seen in nature too. This year, the Neelakuringi (strobilanthes) has bloomed profusely over the western Ghats attracting droves of visitors, in its normal flowering cycle of 12 years. But the Nelu has not bloomed this year as expected on Horton Plains… Have the plants been affected by some change in the weather pattern and can we expect this splendid event to take place next year?

(Sarala Fernando retired from the Foreign Ministry as Additional Secretary; her last ambassadorial appointment was as Permanent Representative to the UN and International Organizations in Geneva . Her Ph.D was on India-Sri Lanka relations and she writes now on foreign policy, public diplomacy and protection of heritage).

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Kachativu, Mackie Ratwatte bribery case and its consequences

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Sirimavo Ratwatte Dias Bandaranaike and Dr Mackie Ratwatte

(Excerpted from Rendering Unto Caesar by Bradman Weerakoon)

There was always something new on the agenda with India. Although the question of statelessness had been virtually resolved by Mrs Bandaranaike with the Sirima-Shastri Pact of 1964, the issue of the ownership of the tiny island of Kachativu in the Palk Strait between India and Ceylon began to acquire importance.

Kachativu is a barren piece of rock about a square mile in extent and would possibly have no strategic value in terms of real estate for Sri Lanka and certainly not for India which has such a massive territory to contend with. Yet, we were now having to deal with this dot of land on account of several reasons.

One was that it was a base for illicit immigrants from South India who had been making use of the island as a transfer point for going on to Jaffna and Mannar. The other reason was that, with oil explorations going on in the Palk Bay the media, particularly, were beginning on both sides to talk about the value of Kachativu.

India based its claim on the historical reason that it had always been within the suzerainty of the Raja of Ramnad. Our claim to Kachativu was that, from Dutch times the government had exercised an administrative control over the island. In more recent times what was known was that the Catholic Diocese of Jaffna had established a church on the island and that one of its priests would officiate at the annual church feast. There would be an annual pilgrimage to Kachativu organized by the Catholic community of Jaffna.

Now the two governments were getting active on it and it was going to be on the agenda for Dudley’s. talks with Indira Gandhi in Delhi. The talks took place between November 27and December 4, 1968. It was a private meeting in Indira Gandhi’s office in the Lok Sabha. Although Indira wished to settle the matter amicably, she mentioned that there could be difficulties with the government in Madras if she agreed to surrender India’s claim to sovereignty.

The problem had become more confounded by the fact that this was the time when the demarcation of the territorial seas between India and Ceylon was being debated and the question of where the median line between the two territories would run was important. Both countries had by now opted for a 12-mile territorial sea limit and this would lead to problems because at certain points the distance between the two coasts was less than 20 miles.

Proposals were made by the Indian side that the demarcation line might just come up to Kachativu on the Indian side leaving the island on the Sri Lankan side. The Indian problem was that if Kachativu was taken as the last point of Sri Lankan territory, then the Sri Lankan territorial waters could be claimed to extend almost up to the Indian shore.

Dudley understood the Indian position very well and on his return to Colombo, informed the Cabinet that he was inclined to agree with Indira Gandhi’s-proposals about the median line coming very close to Kachativu but leaving Kachativu to Sri Lanka. Discussions continued thereafter at meetings in London where both prime ministers went for the Commonwealth Prime Minister’s Conference. G V P Samarasinghe, Permanent Secretary, was as usual extremely diligent in pursuing Sri Lanka’s claim.

The Mackie’ Ratwatte Bribery Case

The one and only occasion in my public service career, on which I had to give evidence in court was in the Mackie Ratwatte case. Although the incidents around which the case was constructed occurred during the time of Sirimavo Bandaranaike, when Mackie was her private secretary, the charges against him began to be put together in the time of Dudley Senanayake’s government.

The charge against Mackie Ratwatte was fairly straightforward. That is, he had been approached by an Indian businessman, a Muslim, who complained to the authorities that although he had given a bribe to Mackie for obtaining his citizenship, he had not been able to obtain it. There were a few witnesses who apparently had testified to the fact that the money had been passed over at Mackie Ratwatte’s Colombo home during the time that he was private secretary to the prime minister.

I came into the picture when the Superintendent of Police T B Werapitiya, attached to the CID at that time, which was investigating the case, produced before me a government file with a minute by Mackie to the Assistant Secretary in the Ministry of Defence & External Affairs, dealing with citizenship applications, V J Harry Gunasekera. The minute itself was innocuous. It said something like: ‘Asst. Secretary/D & EA: for necessary action. Mackie Ratwatte’s P/S/PM’.

I was asked to identify the writing as that of Mackie Ratwatte’s, since I was familiar with his writing. I stated to the CID that it looked like his writing. I was then asked whether it was usual for the private secretary to make such a minute to an assistant secretary. Since the usual procedure in the prime minister’s office at Temple Trees when Mrs Bandaranaike was working there, was for official work to be handled by me, and the private secretary limited himself to personal matters affecting the prime minister her interviews, travel and entertainment, etc, I said that it was not usual for the private secretary to make orders on official letters addressed to the prime minister. In this case, the complainant had personally himself addressed a communication to the prime minister seeking her consideration for his application for citizenship.

When the case against Mackie Ratwatte came up in the District Court of Colombo, the government clearly wanted to make the most of political capital on the charge. The Bribery Commissioner, Panditha Gunewardene had the matter referred to the Acting Attorney- General, Victor Tennekoon. Tennekoon thought there was no prima facie case. But when he, shortly afterwards, accepted elevation to the Supreme Court, A C M Ameer, QC (Queen’s Counsel now known as PC or President’s Counsel) from the Bar, a strong supporter of the UNP and the brother- in- law of the candidate for the Balangoda seat who habitually contested Sirimavo’s brother Clifford, was appointed Attorney-General.

The prosecution case was presented by the Attorney General himself Since my evidence was, in my view inconsequential, I did not think I would be called as a witness in the case which was to be taken up in the District Court. All I could conceivably say in court was the relatively innocuous proposition, that the writing was Mackie’s and that the action was not what he usually did.

However, the Attorney-General thought otherwise. He summoned me to be a prosecution witness and proceeded to examine me quite lengthily. The defence, very ably led, in my cross-examination, established, I thought quite clearly, to the court that although the minute was not usual, there could have been circumstances, eg. my absence from office at that time, for the private secretary to assume that it was proper for him to send the letter along to the Assistant Secretary in the Ministry of Defence & External Affairs, for suitable action.

Clearly, the prosecution case was flimsy as my evidence made out. The eye-witnesses were not deemed credible and the District Judge, quite properly in my view, discharged Mackie without even calling on the defence. Later, to illustrate the convolutions of politics, the judge who heard the case, S S Kulatilleke became a minister of cultural affairs in the Sirimavo government that followed Dudley’s in 1970. I had not informed myself about the political ramfications of the case and had dealt with it purely in terms of what I knew about office procedures. Dudley himself never spoke me about the case, or my evidence.

I thought the matter would end there, but it didn’t. It dogged me for virtually the rest of my career in the public service. Sirimavo herself was apparently very upset about my appearing for the prosecution. As she put it to me once in Galle, at the Harbour Inn hotel on Rumassala Kanda when I met her many years later, just prior to my retirement from the civil service and government, why could I not have defended Mackie, after all the closeness of my association with the family. This was her only question.

I replied that while I personally considered Mackie as one of the most honourable men, and would have said so if asked in any tribunal, my duty as an impartial public servant was to speak objectively, to the facts of the matter, especially in court. Thereafter, it was a matter for the court, depending on the balance of evidence to determine guilt or otherwise. But unfortunately, my point of view was not shared by Mrs Bandaranaike and some members of the larger family. As a result, I was immediately transferred from the post of Secretary to the Prime Minister and made Government Agent of Ampara as soon as Dudley’s term was over in April 1970 and Sirimavo returned to office.

It also led to my six years of exile in the districts; to the loss of opportunities, of a years ‘sabbatical’ at Queen Elizabeth Hall at Oxford; to a three month stint with the World Bank as a consultant on district administration in Bangladesh and to my retirement from the public service in 1976. 1 was convinced that with a government against me I would never again get a posting in Colombo commensurate with my seniority.

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