Features
Sir Oliver Goonetilleke 1892-1978
(Excerpted from Selected Journalism by HAJ Hulugalle)
Sir Oliver Goonetilleke seems to have had an almost mystical faith in his destiny. On his first night in Queen’s House, he pondered not for the first time, some words of Marcus Aurelius which served as a kind of motto in his life: “Does ought befall you? It is good. It is part of the destiny of the universe ordained for you from the beginning. All that befalls you is part of the great web.”
It is true that he was always prepared to assist destiny in fulfilling his own ambitions; but there is no escape when the oracle says that a man is born to be a king. This is exactly what happened to Oliver Goonetilleke at his birth. A Buddhist priest by the name of Dhammarama, who happened to be around, made a quick calculation, and told the sceptical father, “Your son will be a king.”
When Sir Oliver was appointed Governor-General, his father, then in his middle nineties was heard to repeat over and over again, “Dhammarama, Dhammarama.” The old man saw his son, if not exactly a King as the astrologer had predicted, at any rate the representative of the Queen and head of the State.
Queen’s House was not the end of the journey. There is always a yearning, as in the case of Ulysses, to try something new; “some work of noble note may yet be done.”
Having had a father who lived to be 95 and a mother to 85, Sir Oliver, with his abstemious habits, may become the first centenarian among Ceylon’s famous men. He has gained many “firsts” in his career and even in his recreations. He gave Lester Pigott, the champion jockey, his first ride in a race.
There are three main aspects of this biography.* There is first the portrait of the man himself, a success story if ever “here was one in our modern annals. There is then the social, official and political scene in which the struggling postmaster’s son operated. Finally, there are the men (and women) whom he influenced and who influenced him.
*This article was published as a review of Oliver Goonetilleke: A Biography by Sir Charles Jeffries, Pall Mall Press, London 1969.
Although the Ceylon public is familiar with much of the ground covered by the book, there is a good deal of detail that is new and refreshing. Much of it no doubt has been supplied by Sir Oliver himself, who would not be human if he did not sometimes enjoy his own reflected image in the background of the stirring times through which he has lived.
A convenient starting point is the small son of the postmaster at Nuwara Eliya accompanying the postman on his rounds to collect flowers to be sent to his father’s friends in Colombo to adorn their weddings and festivals. Sir Charles Jeffries, always ready to point a moral and adorn a tale, says that -these flower-gathering expeditions gave him an early exercise in the art of tactful persuasion of which he was to become master.”
Oliver Goonetilleke was always determined to reach the top of the ladder, but it was a hard life that he had as a school boy, walking to school to save tram fares, growing vegetables to feed the boarders which the family took in to augment the domestic resources, just failing to win the Government university scholarship to England and missing a place in the Civil Service.
It is interesting to note that the subjects he offered for the London BA examination included Psychology and Logic. Those were days before Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People. But these studies were not in vain for one who became a master negotiator. Sir John Kotelawala says in referring to their common war-time experiences that Sir Oliver displayed “a genius for handling men and finding a way out of every difficult situation in those critical days.”
Goonetilleke was never disheartened by failure. From the first he realized that the best and quickest way to advance his career was by becoming useful to, and using, those who had already reached eminence, or who were, in his opinion, on the threshold of greatness. He joined the Orient Club and frankly admits that he joined it mainly in order to find a place in the Ceylon sun for myself.
The elite of Ceylonese, manhood – at that time class distinctions were taken for granted -formed the membership of the Orient Club, and I was there working my way upwards in life.”
Racing was another rung for the ladder. Here he combined business with pleasure. Always a shrewd punter, he moved among some of the richest and most influential men in the country. F. G. Morley, the Colonial Auditor, conveniently retired and became Secretary of the Turf Club, to make way for Goonetilleke. Arthur Ephraums, hotel-owner and turfite, was his partner in land deals which was the base of his own fortune.
Other spheres of his activity were the YMCA (reference was once made by a reluctant admirer to his ‘YMCA smile’), and the Incorporated Board of Trustees of the Anglican Church. The fact that he became a lifelong teetotaller and non-smoker, Sir Charles Jeffries thinks, is probably due to the Methodist tradition in which he was educated at Wesley College. But he was always careful about his health and daily consumed quantities of orange juice. He was possibly the first Ceylonese to install air-conditioning in his bedroom and study.
Gradually he made his way “with his soft voice, ever-ready smile and gift of combining unanswerable logic with impeccable courtesy.” He was always kind to the under-dog and considerate to the wealthy and influential.
When the post of Auditor-General fell vacant, it is said that Sir Graeme Tyrrell, the Chief Secretary, was not in favour of appointing him. But he was not to be baulked. As Sir Charles Jeffries says: “Goonetilleke realised that for him this was the crucial point of his career. He was determined to leave no stone unturned to ensure that his name was at least put forward to the Colonial Office. “Throwing discretion to the winds, he appealed to his friends to use their influence in his favour. A deputation to the Governor, Sir Graeme Thomson, was hastily arranged, and in due course the Governor decided to recommend him for the post.”
He did an excellent job as Auditor-General and made that office his power-base during the 11 years he held it. His friendship with D. S. Senanayake drew him into the vortex of politics in which a lesser man would have floundered. Oliver Goonetilleke was the supreme odd-job man for any government. He kept the Public Service sweet, he wrote Budget speeches, he composed differences between dissenting Ministries and even managed to get Pandit Nehru to withdraw a sharp letter he had written to Sir John Kotelawala.
One could dwell indefinitely on Oliver Goonetilleke, the man. But space must be found for his achievements in the larger field. During the war years he was a tower of strength to the Government and kept both Sir Andrew Caldecott and Sir Geoffrey Layton, Governor and Commander-in-Chief, in their respective anomalous positions satisfied.
“At official banquets His Excellency the Governor was served first with the soup while His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief was served first with the next course, fish. And I always arranged for the national anthem to be played by a Service band when His Excellency the Governor arrived at a function. This was, of course, after His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief had been ceremoniously received before the arrival of the Governor !”
There was of course the famous occasion when one night the Commander-in-Chief rang to say: “Goone! You’re running a damn bad show!” On the night when General Wavell was to stay at the Admiral’s residence there was no water in the bathroom taps. And it was ‘Goone’s’ job to lay on the fire brigade to ensure that the overhead tanks were kept full.
Sir Oliver Goonetilleke played a vital role in the negotiations over independence and on many an occasion his wisdom and common sense saved the situation. In September 1945, the British Government published the Soulbury Report, followed in October by a statement of what it had decided to do about it. Mr. D. S. Senanayake’s first reaction was to reject the terms offered and defy perfidious Albion to do its worst. Sir Oliver thought otherwise. The Lake House newspapers had decided to support the Ministers and leading articles to this effect had been prepared. On the night before they appeared, Sir Oliver made a last appeal.
Sir Charles Jeffries writes, no doubt on the authority of Sir Oliver: “His arguments prevailed, and it was agreed to go at once to see his old chief D. R. Wijewardene, the head of the newspaper group. The official chauffeurs had been sent home and taxis were scarce: so it was in two rickshaws that Senanayake and Goonetilleke rode in the dark to see their newspaper-magnate friend and tell him of the new policy. After long discussions he too was brought to agree with the more moderate cause.”
When Ceylon became independent, Sir Oliver went to London as the first High Commissioner. He had the honour of a visit to Ceylon House by the King and Queen during a reception for Mr. D.S. Senanayake. He was blamed for buying an expensive carpet, but it transpires that he bought a property for the Ceylon Government in Grosvenor Square for ten thousand pounds sterling and sold it for fifty thousand pounds sterling.
There was always the possibility of his becoming a property tycoon like Charles Clore or Maxwell Joseph, had Sir Oliver timed his exit from Queen’s House better. “Indeed, although the profit on this deal was handsome enough.” comments Sir Charles on the Grosvenor Square sale, “he could reflect in later life that, if his government had the sense to hold on to the house, it could have sold for half a million in a few year’s time.”
Sir Oliver reached the pinnacle of his career at the age of 62. The eight years of his occupancy could not have been more stirring. D.S. Senanayake, D.B. Jayatilaka and D.R. Wijewardene were all dead and he was the surviving elder statesman. There was none to go for counsel or restraining influence.
Sir John Kotelawala lost the election in 1956. Sir Oliver is reported to have said: “Prime Minister, I am talking to you not only as Governor-General but as one who has known you all your life. The duly constituted umpire – the ballot box – has given a verdict. I may even agree with the view that the verdict was unfair, but it is still the umpire’s verdict.” Sir John did not allow Sir Oliver to finish. “You are right,” he said. “Here is my resignation.” He had in fact brought it with him.
S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike, when he was Prime Minister, lunched with the Governor-General on Wednesdays, as his predecessors had done. “He would pull out his notes” (Sir Oliver says), and tell me about his worries, of the communal religious groups which were badgering him in regard to appointments in the administrative service, the armed services and the police, and of his fears concerning those who might obstruct the peaceful transition to socialism on which he had set his heart.” There were even occasions when he requested the Governor-General to use his good offices to settle strikes.
Sir Oliver was at his best as a firm and dedicated administrator during the troubles of 1958. He was then the virtual ruler of the island and displayed unusual courage and sagacity. No one else could have handled the situation better.
After Bandaranaike’s tragic death and the short government of Dudley Senanayake, “a new and formidable figure now appeared on the political scene.” The widow needed the help and advice of the veteran statesman, (`Mahadanamutta’ he used to be called by D.R. Wijewardene) as much as her husband had done. During the strikes in the port of Colombo, the commercial banks and the Ceylon Transport Board, the Governor-General was at her residence at 6 o’clock every morning.
As Sir Charles says, he enjoyed playing the political game with whatever pieces happened to be on the board from time to time. He enjoyed the prestige and glamour of office. He was entertaining not only heads of state, but rich friends like Krupp, Rothschilds, Rockefellers and Maharanis. Yuri Gagarin was his guest, and he quizzed Chou En-lai who confessed that the main question before China was the longevity of Chiang Kai-shek.
Sir Oliver was in daily touch with Mrs. Bandaranaike on the telephone. Then came the alleged coup d’etat early in 1962. In the documents in the case were included a statement by one of the accused that the Governor-General along with Dudley Senanayake and Sir John Kotelawala had tacitly approved of the plan, and that orders were coming ‘right from the top.’ Sir Oliver offered to submit to any investigation.
“Meanwhile,” concludes Sir Charles Jeffries, “the Prime Minister without any reference to him, had advised the Queen to replace him as Governor-General by a prominent Kandyan lawyer, Mr. W. Gopallawa, who had served as Ceylon ambassador in the United States. On March 1, 1962, Sir Oliver vacated Queen’s House to become a private citizen. A week later he left Ceylon. He was in his 70th year and had completed over 40 years of unbroken public service.”
He might justly say with Othello; I have done the State some service and they know it.”