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The Sergeant-at-arms I knew

by Geoff Wijesinghe

A few nights after the retirement of my dear friend Ronnie Abeysinghe as Serjeant-at-arms in 1996, we sat in his flat by the sea at Bambalapitiya, sipping whisky and talking about old times.

Ronnie became misty-eyed as he reminisced his 33-year career in Parliament.

He joined as a clerk in 1961 and then moved up the ladder. On his first day as Assistant Sergeant-at-arms, the Sergeant-at-arms, the tall, gangling Ananda de Silva reported sick and my friend had to deputise.

"I felt as if butterflies were fluttering in my tummy, for there I was inside the holy of holies, seated with the highest politicians, leaders of the country. It really gave me the jitters".

Going back down memory lane, he remembers how he had to assist the Sergeant-at-arms to remove a few members including K. M. P. Rajaratne and Robert Gunawardena, both firebrand politicians, with Robert being the more turbulent of the two.

In another incident during a heated debate, Robert - brother of Boralugoda Lion, Philip Gunawardena - was delivering a speech full of fire and thunder from the second row of the opposition benches. He was in full cry, gesticulating with his hands for all he was worth, when suddenly his dentures flew off and landed between the first and second rows.

A rather shocked House watched intently as Robert searched frantically for his false teeth. After a few minutes of frantic search, he found them, stood up and with the still stunned House, fitted them back in his mouth and with a triumphant smile, resumed his fussilade. "All the members present heaved a sigh of relief", said Ronnie Abeysinghe.

Seated at his dining table with a quietly but steadily diminishing bottle of Scotch, Ronnie continued, "It was about 7.30 on a very calm and quiet evening in the Parliament by the sea at Fort. Speaker Stanley Tillekeratne was in the Chair, when the Arachchi rushed into the chamber and quite excitedly whispered in my ear that an MP was roaring drunk, but insisting on entering the Chamber.

I told the Arachchi that I could not leave the Chamber, as it was sitting in committee, and I would have had to take the mace from the lower bracket and place it on the higher one".

"But, to my great dismay, the member staggered into the chamber, shouting unprintable expletives at the Chair.

The Speaker, who was thoroughly taken aback by this sudden attack on him by a drunken government parliamentarian, ordered me to remove the errant member from the Chamber immediately.

He suspended sittings for half an hour".

"I found the member in one of the middle benches shouting rank filth with his legs cocked up on the front bench seat rest, his national dress all askew, clearly showing his vitals as he wore no underwear".

When the Assistant Serjeant-at-arms tried to remove him, the MP clung onto his microphone. However, with the assistance of some messengers, Ronnie managed to break his hold on the mike and carry the now comatose MP down the main steps facing the sea and laid him on the ground. He then called the taxi and asked that the "casualty" be taken to the MPs hostel, "Shrawasti" almost opposite the Colombo Museum.

But, the cab driver refused to take the drunken MP without his fair being paid in advance.

"So, what could I do, but hand him the last fifteen rupees I had, which I was keeping to have a little relaxation with my friends at the Anglers Club at Galle Buck near the Fort lighthouse".

He then recalled how he had the tables turned on him and was nearly carried out of the Chamber in the new Parliament by the Diyawanna Oya by three opposition MPs, two of whom later became Ministers.

"I was ordered by the Speaker to remove five members who had defied the Chair.

As I approached the first, Mr. Sirisena, member for Polonnaruwa, I began a chit-chat with him to leave without making a scene, when I was pounced on by C. V. Gooneratne, an old Royalist and CR & FC ruggerite who swooped on me as if he would in a rugger maul, Nanda Ellawela and the usually quite and calm Lakshman Jayakody".

"I realized this was going to be a "serious joke." if the Serjeant-at-Arms was carried out of the Chamber, it would certainly have made the headlines in next day's papers".

The well-muscled Ronnie, a former Mr. Moratuwa decided that at no cost could he let that happen. So, he hooked his arms around one of the chairs, which are fixed to the floor and held on so hard the even C.V.'s rugger tackles could not dislodge him.

Another incident he well remembered was when he was ordered by the Speaker to remove a very stubborn Ananda Dassanayake from the Chamber, said the retired Serjeant-at-Arms.

"Mr. Dassanayake happened to be one of my Sinhala masters at Prince of Wales College and when I approached him, he started shouting at me, "Ronnie you were a student of mine. How can you remove me from the Chamber?"

"I used a lot of tact on him, but he was hysterical and shouting at the top of his voice.

The time limit of the suspension of the House to remove the member was growing near. So I had no choice but to lift him up with the assistance of some policemen."

When he was being heaved up our shoulders, Ronnie's former mentor shouted, "all right, you can carry me out, but don't squeeze me". Once he was out of the Chamber his former master had told Ronnie, "I did not know you could lift me up so easily".

Ronnie Abeysinghe as colourful personality I have met, a fine gentleman and friend, passed on to the great beyond last week.

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