Newspapers were an entrée to politics

BY RANJIT WIJEWARDENE

Dynastically Upali Wijewardene could have chosen to wear the mantle of his paternal uncle, D.R. Wijewardene, the newspaperman, or follow the role model of his youth, Sarath Wijesinghe, ebullient politician, turfite and businessman.

He chose to do both.

Unlike a contemporary at Royal College, Upali had no real passion for politics while at school and university. He wanted to strike out on his own in innovative businesses.

By the beginning of 1977, with a string of spectacular Sri Lankan entrepreneurial successes behind him and a burgeoning international business empire, Upali sensed the winds of political change and shared the prevailing sentiment to help rebuild a nation which had barely survived a very difficult time.

The opportunity appeared to be there when a government headed by his cousin J.R. Jayewardene, came to power. Yet, in truth, with a formidable presence as one of Sri Lanka’s youngest and foremost entrepreneurs he could have made his pitch with any government, to enter politics.

I cannot be certain of exactly when the idea to publish a newspaper came to Upali, or why. Family tradition would have played a part in influencing his decision. Possibly it made sense to create an independent voice and power base or it may have presented, at the time, the potential for a profitable business. Again, a string of newspapers could serve as a stepping stone to enter the political arena with a bang, and yet again, be a fall back option if politics did not provide an adequate platform for his talents.

Upali wanted the Finance Ministership no less. His uncle Sarath Wijesinghe had served as Deputy Finance Minister in Mrs. Bandaranaike’s Cabinet. Upali had by then already maintained maternal family tradition in succeeding in business and, in the sport of kings. Upali’s stable of horses was already competing in the most prestigious of international racing events.

But the last step into politics proved unexpectedly elusive. Veteran politicians of the ruling party were not about to give way. Upali had eventually to have his fourth estate fight for him against his antagonists of the third estate.

It all began innocently enough. 1 had thought to re-enter publishing and had some weeklies and periodicals planned. One of these, was a picture story paper, salvaged from Lake House days. I had purchased a reconditioned press for this venture. Upali had also set up his newspaper plant, but putting his staff together was taking time. On a casual visit one morning, he saw the page proofs of the comic magazine lying around on my table, and immediately the idea came to hire to bring out a comic book which would have a mix of fun and political satire. Such a publication would need no waiting to set up the paraphernalia of editorial production, or of training reporters and sub editors. Pending the larger plan, his Press would be immediately functional.

And so it was that Chitra Mithra hit the streets, and it proved to be quite a success. Soon attacks on Upali in Parliament and on political platforms, were met by reducing his opponents to comic book characters. Even after traditional newspaper production commenced, some of that earlier satire was evident in the ‘Anuradhapura Diaries’, a much loved and much read column replete with barbed shafts.

It is difficult to relive the stifling atmosphere of the time when the dominant newspapers belonged to an all powerful government, or to understand the sense of relief that the Island and Divaina newspapers brought with them, a fresh wind that blew across the prevailing media scene.

Yet Upali had to be politically astute to keep his newspapers vibrant and free. while serving a President who reigned supreme. As Director General of the newly set up FTZ he reported directly to the President and that meant daily visibility. Upali gave his editors free rein, except that President Jayewardene was sacrosanct.

That policy was largely successful, but there was at least one occasion, when President Jayewardene responding to complaints from senior cabinet ministers, summoned representations from the country’s banking world and wanted bank facilities to Upali Newspapers to be stopped. One banker, speaking for his colleagues, and to his great credit, politely said that he was unable to comply with the presidential request.

Having gone through a governmental take-over myself. I remember advising caution, but Upali only chuckled and said, “Let them take it, if they want it!” He had the financial independence to react appropriately to any threats that came his way.

When his Lear jet went missing over the Malacca Straits that fateful night in February. Upali had fought off much of the opposition to his being a candidate for Parliament, and a by-election was also in the offing.

If he lead succeeded, his newspapers may have been relegated to a lesser passion in his life, but on that score we can only conjecture.

(This article first appeared in the Sunday Island anniversary issue of Oct 01, 2006)