New Politics
SUPPORTER:
By the time I knew him, my mother’s eldest brother Esmond was
emphatically a supporter of the UNP.
Soon after I was born he had been sent to New York by Sir John
Kotelawala, to negotiate the entry of Ceylon into the United Nations,
and family legend had it that it was the charm displayed by him and his
wife that finally ensured our admission.
Until then the Soviet Union had opposed this, on the grounds that we
were still a colony, with the British still having troops here.
But, long before S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike came into power and asked
them to leave, Esmond had succeeded in averting a Soviet veto, in terms
of a compromise that saw the admission also of other countries that had
been disputed.
Esmond was by then seen as Sir John’s right hand man, or rather one
of them, for that wily old bird made use of several capable people. But
none of them was able to prevent his shattering defeat in 1956, when he
led his party to an election called prematurely.
Blaming him however would be wrong, for a clear reading of what
happened that year suggests that he was forced into calling an election
he did not want, and contesting it on a platform he abhorred.
Or, rather, blaming him alone - he cannot escape all responsibility
for allowing such a situation to arise, and letting himself be carried
along by it, a practice that has been followed since by many other Sri
Lankan leaders.
What happened was that SWRD had been campaigning to make Sinhala the
official language, as part of his policy of empowering the common man.
Unfortunately he did not make the same claims on behalf of the common
Tamil people, but that was perhaps part of his understanding that the
appeal of his party was confined to majority Sinhala areas.
Initially at any rate, anti-Tamil rhetoric was not part of his
agenda, his opposition being primarily to the English speaking elite.
The UNP saw which way the wind was blowing, and decided that they too
wanted to change the official language policy.
Sir John however, appreciating perhaps the contribution of northern
voters to the UNP, made a speech in Jaffna in which he announced that
his party would make both Sinhala and Tamil official languages.
This unfortunately roused the anger of the chauvinist wing of his
party, and they demanded that he retract.
The Daily News yearbook has a graphic account of what happened then.
The critique there of what the UNP did makes no bones about the role
played by the wing that was to inherit the UNP, at any rate in the short
term after Sir John withdrew in disgrace after his electoral defeat.
The implication is that, at that stage at least, Lake House knew who
exactly was to be blamed for the debacle.
What happened was that, following Sir John’s speech in Jaffna, the
UNP sessions held early in 1956 in Kelaniya repudiated the policy he had
enunciated, and instead voted to declare that the UNP too wanted Sinhala
only.
Furthermore, they decided that Parliament should be dissolved and
that the party should seek a fresh mandate immediately to implement this
policy. Tamil members of the UNP argued against it, and when they were
defeated many resigned.
The campaign naturally then became racist in tone, with both the UNP
and the MEP (the coalition led by Bandaranaike’s SLFP which contained
elements more chauvinist than he was himself) competing with each other
to win the Sinhala vote. Naturally Tamils throughout the country were
appalled.
In the North they voted en masse for the Federal Party, which had
been roundly defeated by the UNP and its ally the Tamil Congress at the
previous election, in 1952.
In the south they turned to the left, which explains how the LSSP did
much better than the UNP, which not only lost its parliamentary
majority, but failed even to lead the opposition.
Sadly, the details of what happened in 1956 are long forgotten, and
SWRD looms large in the collective memory as the villain who
single-handedly created communal chaos.
The role of his rivals, competing to raise the racist temperature - a
practice followed since then by all major political parties - has long
been forgotten.
And they did not stop there. After Sir John resigned, the UNP was in
effect led by J R Jayewardene, even though he had lost his parliamentary
seat.
This was Kelaniya, where the sessions were held and where I have no
doubt he did his bit to ensure that Sir John had to eat his words
regarding parity of status for the two languages.
The two of them loathed each other, since Sir John held J R largely
responsible for the palace coup whereby he had been passed over for the
Premiership when D S Senanayake died and Dudley Senanayake was appointed
instead; and J R, who had hoped to succeed when Dudley suddenly
resigned, was deeply upset when Dudley himself recommended that Sir John
replace him.
What role if any Esmond played in all this I do not know. By the
eighties, when I used to discuss politics with him seriously - or
relatively seriously, for he had an irrepressible sense of humour, and
sometimes I wasn’t sure whether he really meant what he said, as when he
suggested that N G P Panditharatne might be the best successor to J R -
he was very definitely a J R votary. And I knew that he had been closely
associated with J R in the sixties too, when Dudley Senanayake had first
fallen out with J R and also with Esmond.
But there were those in between years in the fifties when Dudley
Senanayake had repudiated JR and opted for Sir John, and Esmond had
served the latter faithfully. And certainly, when tensions began to
appear in the UNP over language policy, Esmond’s entire upbringing would
have made him likely to approve of Sir John’s more pluralistic approach.
Given the manner in which the Daily News handbook summed up the events
of 1956, even if Esmond did not interfere with the account penned by his
staff, I don’t suppose Lake House, which he in effect ran in those days,
would have presented an interpretation which he would have deplored.
Why then did he subsequently devote himself so thoroughly to JR? It
is a conundrum that must be considered at length, for it went so
thoroughly against everything his family stood for, as exemplified most
prominently by Lakshman’s unsparing critique of the racism that reached
such monstrous proportions as the years went on.
Here I can only mention Lakshman’s description of his decision to
comeback to Sri Lanka just before that momentous period, after he had
become a priest and was happily engaged in a Ministry in the deprived
East End of London, and pondering marriage to an English girl.
Esmond, he said, had advised him, on one of his flying visits through
London, to comeback quickly, for dramatic changes were going to take
place soon.
If he didn’t, he would find himself left behind in a different world,
unable to make the transition if he did return later.
Lakshman never regretted his decision to comeback, though years later
when I met the girl he might have married - who came to my 50th birthday
party, 20 years after Lakshman had died - I could understand how
difficult it had been.
But once he had comeback, Lakshman did not swerve from the world view
with which he had started, encompassing a patriotism based on
inclusivity.
Sadly, his much more experienced older brother was unable, in the
political turmoil that resulted, to resist the blandishment of different
sirens. |