Book Review:
In a world of dinner jackets and regimental dinners
Derrick Nugawela’s autobiography, ‘Tea and Sympathy: Memoirs of a
Planter, Army Officer and Banker’ has just been published. It has a
Foreword by Gananath Obeysekera and an Introduction by Ranjith
Amerasinghe, and is available at the ongoing Galle Literary Festival and
leading bookshops.
Following are excerpts of Justice A.R.B. Amerasinghe’s Introduction
of the book.
In the twilight years of a long and eventful life, Derrick Nugawela
has recorded his memoirs in this book. He achieved neither fame nor
fortune and, except perhaps his relatives and a few friends ‘not yet
fallen off the perch’ (to recall the words of his former planter
colleague Percy Grey when he visited him in a nursing home in
Winchester), people might wonder who he was.
He was not a much talked about celebrity and, in terms of wealth or
substance, his stock was scarcely ever significant.
And therein lies the attractiveness of his autobiography. It is a
tale simply told of a man of integrity and determination who achieved a
degree of success in a multi-faceted career, despite fearful odds and
disadvantages that might have overwhelmed or at least dissuaded a lesser
man.
His wide-ranging background as planter, army officer, banker,
Chairman of the Ceylon Estate Employers’ Federation, Deputy Chairman of
the Planters’ Association, Deputy General Manager of the Greater Colombo
Economic Commission, consultant for the Asian Development Bank, adviser
to USAID and as a struggling immigrant in Australia gives interest to
his reflections, his judicious comments throwing open perspectives of
value to the general reader.
He was sometimes enigmatic - buying a rare Alvis motor car, a Leica
camera, a Rolex watch, a monogrammed cutlery canteen, shopping for
crystal glassware and at the same time selling pieces of white home made
jaggery at 2 shillings a piece and bartering tins of pineapple and
packets of tea to make ends meet; wining and dining at the Governor’s
residence in Sydney in elite company while apprehensive that a fellow
guest might greet him when he drove into the car-wash place at which he
laboured to augment his sparse income.
The author was bereft of maternal affection, for just three months
after he was born his mother was taken away with a mental ailment from
which she never recovered. Days before his matriculation examination,
when he was 17, his father passed away.
His maternal grandfather Sir T B Panabokke and family, in particular
his mother’s sister Gladys (Mrs D B Ellepola), and Eddie Nugawela (his
father’s brother) and his daughters virtually absorbed Derrick into
their families. Given the early loss of his parents, the author suspects
he might be an ‘introvert’ and a ‘bad mixer’.
His book contains substantial evidence that the opposite indeed is
the case. The author was sociable and hankered after company.
Commenting on his stint at the Tea Research Institute he lamented:
‘Though I was introduced to the families of both senior and junior
staff, nobody entertained me to a meal as it was not a practice. I often
wonder whether scientists derive stimulation only from mental
activities, with no concern about social activities.’
He was a member of several clubs - the Bogowantalawa Club, the
Darawella Club, the Golf Club at Nuwara Eliya, the Sea Anglers Club in
Trincomalee, the Eighty and Turf Clubs in Colombo - and actively
participated in their sporting and social activities.
There is an ancient Maori saying: Ki mau ki au, he aka te mea mu o
tea au? Makae ki atu, he tangata, he tangata. (Tell me, what is the most
important thing in the world? Well, I’ll tell you. It’s people. It’s
people.)
This book might well be regarded as a primer serving as a means of
instruction for persons seeking insights into the creation of
opportunities and gains that may be made by the cultivation of one’s
aptitude to interact. A basic classification of people underpinned his
strategies: ‘There is,’ he said, ‘a subtle difference between
acquaintances and tangible friends.’
Tangibility suggests that the author perhaps had the old colloquial
meaning of ‘touch’ in mind in the sense of coming down upon a person for
a favour.
‘Tangible friends,’ he said, ‘are a treasure in life. Looking back, I
never felt lonely, as I did have a friend in most places around the
world.’
Although he drew attention to the fact that ‘of course it is a
two-way’ process, exceptionally that was not the case, the essential
thing being the optimum use of contacts made, whether for himself or
others as for instance in his efforts after his return from Australia to
help disadvantaged people in Sri Lanka.
The book is full of examples of how entertaining visitors at the
family mansion at Beragama, or at the Queen’s Hotel during the Perahera
(to which he was intimately connected by the fact that the position of
Diyawadana Nilame - the lay custodian of the sacred Tooth Relic - was
held by a member of his family for half a century), or at his home as a
planter gave him the ‘two-way ... access’ to reciprocal domestic
hospitality, and much else besides.
He met the Governor-General, Lord Soulbury, when he visited Kandy in
the company of his grandfather Sir T B Panabokke and was entertained at
Beragama. Derrick Nugawela was invited to spend a weekend at Queen’s
Cottage, the Governor-General’s official residence at Nuwara Eliya, and
later on he enjoyed Soulbury’s hospitality at his cottage in Hampshire.
He struck up a friendship with Earl Mountbatten from whom,
incidentally, he picked up a nugget of wisdom when he was his guest at
Dimbulla. The author says: ‘Talking of problems, he made a comment that
stood out in my mind thereafter: “If there is trouble on the ship, I
start at the bridge”.
Nugawela was entertained by Mountbatten in London and they also met
again twice in Sydney at the residence of a mutual friend, Roden Cutler,
the Governor of New South Wales. Hosting American Ambassador Bernard
Guffler, an alumnus of Harvard, and his wife resulted in his enrolment
in 1969 on the Advanced Management Program at Harvard’s Business School.
The contacts he made at Harvard (and later through the Harvard Club
in Sydney) proved to be invaluable. For instance John Gough, a Harvard
colleague, helped him obtain employment at Gollin & Co when the author
migrated to Australia.
When he lost his employment at Gollin after it crashed, he met Glen
Moreno, the Chief Executive Officer of Citicorp in Sydney, at the
Harvard Club. Nugawela says he ‘dropped a few names of some American
Ambassadors who had crossed my path and that I had been a guest of the
US Government on a Leadership Scholarship in 1956’ and obtained
employment as a clerk at Citicorp.
On his way to Harvard Nugawela located ‘tangible’ friends. Philip
Crowe who had been entertained by him was now US Ambassador in Sweden,
enabling him to enjoy a stop over in Stockholm.
And then there were Yves and Mary Delahaye of the French Embassy who
had enjoyed his hospitality and also met him in New Delhi when his Uncle
was High Commissioner.
Nugawela found them in Moscow where Delahaye was the French Deputy
Chief of Mission. But their generosity was relatively supplementary, for
a lavish state-sponsored tour had been laid out by Nikolov Geogadze the
Deputy Premier of the Supreme Soviet who, with his accompanying
delegation, had been entertained by Nugawela on his plantation.
There were indeed many friends who rendered reciprocal courtesies.
For instance there was Ahrens the German Ambassador, his estate guest,
who then hosted him at Wiesbaden.
His ‘connections’ at the American Embassy visiting his estate led to
a Leadership Grant that took him on a study tour of the United States in
1956. And there was Sir Roden Cutler, the Australian Ambassador who had
been entertained at Beragama and at the Perahera.
He became Governor of New South Wales and sponsored Nugawela for
migration to Australia and entertained him at his official residence in
Sydney on several occasions.
The remotest connection was it seems sufficient to obtain
extraordinary results. For instance, when he was in the USA, the author
visited Gregory Peck and toured Hollywood on the strength of the famous
actor having been involved in the shooting of a film at Beragama in
1954.
Apart from ‘tangible friends’ who were ‘touched’ as a part of a
‘two-way’ process of reciprocity, there were others who assisted him
simply for old times sake.
For example there was his uncle Herbert Tennekoon, a former Governor
of the Central Bank, then Ambassador in Japan, who provided him with
hospitality on his way back from the United States and whose name the
author admits he freely flaunted when he was struggling to establish
himself in Sydney.
When his relocation in Colombo at CitiBank was an issue and required
clearance by the Central Bank, the matter was resolved through Lakshman
Kannangara, the Deputy Governor, ‘a friend from the past’.
When he aspired to the job of Deputy Director General of the Greater
Colombo Economic Commission, K H J Wijeyadasa, who had been Government
Agent when the author was overlooking military operations during the
insurgency in the Kegalle area, was successfully ‘touched’.
The application of the ‘whom-you-know’ and how they might be
‘touched’ strategy for success appears to have constituted a driving
force behind a substantial part of his life and work. Yet the expression
of his opinion that ‘it is not what you know but rather whom you know
that does the trick aided by a bit of luck’ is apt to mislead. Indeed,
‘knowledge’ he expressly recognizes is ‘power.’
But what is knowledge, except to be in possession of relevant
information, to be acquainted with or have personal experience with a
thing? Surely, what you know cannot be treated with disdain? There are
three areas of the life and work of the author which, in terms of public
interest, might for reasons of convenience be identified for
consideration: planter, army officer, immigrant.
The book also contains details of the recruitment, training process
and protocols concerning an army officer. The author was attracted by
the army from his early years at school when he joined the cadet
battalion.
Since the early thirties, encouraged by the British, young Ceylonese
from prominent families joined the volunteer defence forces including,
for example, Sir John Kotelawala, Omar Lebbe, and the author’s uncles,
Eddie and Clifford, and his cousin Douglas Aluvihare.
The author’s application for a commission resulted in his appointment
as a Second Lieutenant in the Ceylon Light Infantry, and in 1969 he was
promoted to the rank of full Colonel - the highest rank available to a
volunteer officer - and appointed Commandant of the Volunteer Force. But
things have now changed.
The author observes: ‘Sadly in today’s context, with the LTTE
insurgency in the North of the country since 1983, hardly any relatives
of politicians or businessmen or members of elites have enlisted in the
forces to combat this menace. Only the sons of the poor, largely rural,
segment of the country have rallied actively to its defence.’
The Volunteer Forces, the author points out, have rendered service of
national importance. They have been periodically mobilized to perform
military operations under ‘Emergency Regulations’ that have been brought
into force from time to time.
They have also been enlisted to combat illicit immigration and to
assist national development by participating for instance in the
Mahaweli Development project. Of particular personal significance was
the role the author played while heading military operations in
combating ethnic violence the Kurunegala area in 1958 and the later JVP
insurrections in the South and Kegalle areas and his reflections on war
and politics. At his level, as an officer in command, the
responsibilities were burdensome.
To begin with one had to effectively control everyone under orders;
and this was not easy, for some went beyond limits, displaying, as he
says, ‘animal instincts’.
That was well-illustrated by the notorious case of a young woman
suspect, Manamperi - stripped naked and paraded in public and murdered
gruesomely by one of the author’s officers during the campaign in the
South to eradicate the insurgency of 1971.
Then there was the problem of identifying and reconciling relations
with civil authorities.
During the 1971 operations he showed the door to the Tissamaharama
Member of Parliament who ‘barged in unceremoniously’ into a meeting
discussing matters pertaining to security in the South, with no
ill-effects when reported to Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike.
He says: ‘Politics and military operations never go together.
Politicians make war but it is Commanders who conduct the battles ... I
made it clear to the meeting that the security of the District was my
responsibility, but once the areas were cleared, I had no interest in
holding on to real estate.
To win the hearts and minds of the people was the responsibility of
the Government Agents and civil administration.’
This is misleading, if one reads into it water-tight divisions of
responsibility, for the author clearly understood the importance of
civil authority. He cooperated with politicians and government agencies
in full measure. |