The Ceylon Civil Service – Some Notes III

by Gamini Seneviratne

My cell phone ‘conked’. It had all my contact numbers. There being no one else around, not in close proximity, I have come to rely on that gadget to bring me company of sorts. The numbers I miss most are those of my grandchildren although, as time passes, they seem to have little time to spare for chats. Can’t blame them, not quite: they seem certain that they are adored regardless. I just wish sometimes that they were at hand to be spanked. Anyway, the two youngest of them, Kisara and Dayadi (I name them just so they know, not to shame them) seem to believe that chastisement can be avoided simply by saying, “I am good” bringing to mind our practice in dealing with their parents: imposing on ourselves “a willingness to suspend disbelief”.

And I’ve also realized that I am not smart enough for the new so-called phone.

Therefore, I shall speed this note up as all kinds of nasty things are going on around us and time passes. I shall sketch such personalities as DCL captured that day: not all of them but those whose tales were known to me and known to be not fabrications. The photograph was taken outside the Masonic Hall in Galle Face/Slave Island facing the Fountain Café of Elephant House. The AAC (Automobile Club) with its billiard tables and its store of restoratives lay behind it on the seaward side. Though the CCS was referred to sometimes, by mostly envious persons, as a Free Masonry, I doubt that even a handful of those in this picture knew anything about ‘Free Masons’. I knew a few Masons but see none of them here.

On the extreme left, standing, is Mahinda Wijenaike whom I knew when he was Government Agent, Kurunegala – not in his official capacity but as a partner at tennis of my fiancée at what was then the Upper Club. (His AGA, Jolly Somasunderam, absent here, was our friend; he was an attesting witness at our marriage, brought my wife the first copy of his first novel – perhaps on a first of January, his birthday). Next but one is Myla who was Controller of Imports & Exports (C/I&E) when all in our batch, the last, were sent to him to man the lots of desks that were needed to execute a policy of control across the board. (I was the first to be pulled out from there by Shirley Amerasinghe, ST, and moved across to the Treasury.

Myla was upset – he came with me to the Secretariat, tried to shove me back in the lift to return to the Ceylinco building that housed his department). I met him shortly afterwards at a Royal-Thomian Fair, accompanied by what one would have thought were an unwieldy lot of fair ladies. As far as public policy went, he firmly believed in a strong public sector presence in the economy. He set up an Industrial Development Board (IDB) that was virtually designed to take over the functions of the Ministry of Industries. In later life he turned to meditation and bajan-like rituals. When we last met, he was just back from Tirupati; he never lacked confidence in himself but now there was a different dimension of the strength that peace begets. (Myla’s Deputy C/I&E was Colin Senarath-Nandadeva, a Western Classics man. He was nephew and heir of W A Silva an outstanding Sinhala novelist whose vijayaba kollaya and avichara samaya were required reading at school. Their house still stands as was in Wellawatte by the road named after him – with its high roof under sinhala ulu.)

Next to Myla is Nissanka Wijewardena whom I’ve already written about.

And by him is Bradman Weerakoon. He wrote a book about his work in the public service. He sent it to me for review. Some years later I suggested that he fill in some blanks and he said, “So you can hack it?!” The contours of his career are well known – especially the guidance he provided to Prime Ministers of varying persuasions, varying levels of competence. What’s not been in the public eye is his work in Ampara as GA in territory in which the Gal Oya Board also possessed a degree of autonomy conferred on it by statute. Or his work as GA, Galle (the center of commerce through the Portuguese, Dutch and British occupation of the western and southern coastal areas). I am not familiar with his work as head of the International Planned Parenthood Federation but have no doubt he would have made a substantial contribution towards advancing its goals.

Though it is his son who’s shone in a career in the foreign service I have always felt that Bradman was, alongside a few like Gunasena de Zoyza and Shirley Amerasinghe, one of our most able diplomats-in-waiting. (It behooves me to mention too that his sister, Yvonne Gunawardena, was among our finest poets in English; I made a somewhat comprehensive assessment of her work some 15 or 20 years ago. Another sibling, Ronny, was a friend from before he became Director of External Resources, and his wife was ‘favorite aunt’ for our daughter and her classmates.)

A little behind him is Caryll Ludekens, one of a kind. When he was GA, Batticaloa, early 1960s and I was handling such matters at the Finance Ministry, he sent me a letter handwritten in Sinhala. It went something like this: hithavath Gamini, mehe Sellathambu kiyala kenek innave, hungak huta-pata karanava. Kavadada maava mehen beraganne? By that time, I had heard of his ‘lines’ as AGA, Ratnapura: on circuit through the jungles, usually very wet, he had refused palliative care against the leeches. kaapalla! beepalla! umbalata mey vagey honda lansi ley hambavenne nehe! He later served as Chairman of Consolexpo (I think he preceded Totsy Vittachchi). When I was tossed into ‘the pool’ in the late 1970s and an Additional Secretary at Public Administration wanted a prestigious job elsewhere but wished to retain his perch, Caryll said, “So, he can go there – and let Gamini be athireka.”

B P V A J (‘Alphabet’) Senaratne had a confrontation with colleague Baku Mahadeva over the Ruby Andries Mathematics prize at Royal. Young Senaratne had won it but Baku had demanded that it be given to his son because his father and grandfather had won it. The Principal had given him the short answer. Baku was so miffed that he sent his son to England ‘for further studies’ as used to be said. Years later Baku told me he had sold 10 perches of his land in Colombo 7 @ Rs. 4000/- a perch to send his boy out. Land prices had shot up but he was phlegmatic about it. He said, “It was a matter of exchanging some land for an education”. I last remember Alphabet, in retirement, walking down from Hantane, above the town, to the Campus library. I was told that he did that often.

Next to him is Sahabdeen who proved to be a successful businessman as well. His daughter in law, Fahima, was an artist in various fields and a collection of her stories was up for the Graetian Prize over 20 years ago. V PA Perera, next, was said to be an inveterate bridge player. When I was at SLIDA I used to see Buddhi de Zoyza driving past on Longden Place, the Buddhist flag fluttering.

Next is Dharmasiri Pieris who, like Bradman, had a long spell as Secretary to the Prime Minister. He’s had a variety of appointments since (I reviewed his book too). Unlike most public servants, Dharmasiri had the distinction of contributing to developments in the private sector as well.

Shelton Wanasinghe is next but one (the identity of those on either side of him is uncertain). He was a public servant of great distinction having headed the Academy of Administrative Studies, precursor of SLIDA, served as Secretary/ Public Administration, Chairman / Institute of Policy Studies and head of numerous committees set up to provide guidance in public affairs. (His brother, Sidney, was a friend and owner/operator of Suriya Bookshop the place to go to for ‘left-wing’ books, mostly those of the Fourth International – Leon Trotsky’s challenge to Stalin’s ‘one-party/ one country socialism’ and other monopolistic, anti-people designs everywhere).

Lakshman de Mel was Secretary of the CCS Association for many years. He was Secretary/Trade & Shipping and had his hands full keeping light-fingered juniors in check. He used to play tennis regular as clockwork at the courts off Joseph Fraser road.

Next to him stands Donald Speldewinde. When I was AGA, Matara, and the GA, Francis Pietersz took long leave, Donald, GA/Galle, was appointed to act in Francis’s place. He dropped in to see me once, told me to phone him if I needed any guidance – and took off. Thankfully, there was never any need for consultation. The fact that he remembered having met me, (then an undergrad, en route to Jaffna for May Day with two former Presidents of the Peradeniya Union Society), at the Vavuniya Club seven years earlier (“You didn’t drink gin” he said, – I had just turned 20, didn’t ‘drink’ at all: we played a game of chess) was the route to instant friendship. It lasted till he died.

I shall move on to the other rows in the next installment.