The Hon. Sirimavo Dias Bandaranaike

(Excerpted from Memoirs of a Cabinet Secretary by BP Peiris)

The country went to the polls again; and much was made at the hustings of the assassination of the late Premier and the ideals he stood for. His widow Sirimavo Dias Bandaranaike who had never been a politician, addressed election meetings and, according to the newspapers, shed tears in public. The election was fought more on emotion and sympathy for the late Prime Minister than on political issues.

As usual, election promises which could never be kept were made and her party was returned with an overwhelming majority. Unknown names were in the news as utter strangers to the public at large became elected members of Parliament. They came in as a People’s Government’ and the Government Members of Parliament donned the people’s dress, the national dress, with a blue scarf to indicate the party colour.

The Governor-General, Sir Oliver Goonetilleke, was in a quandary as to whom to send for to form a government. A few old hands had been elected like C. P. de Silva, Ilangaratne, A. P. Jayasuriya and Maithripala Senanayake, but if any one of these had been appointed Prime Minister, the Party would have disintegrated through internal jealousies. There was a newcomer, Felix Dias Bandaranaike, a kinsman of the late Premier. There was J. P. Obeysekera, another kinsman. But none of these could hold the team.

The only person who could lead was Sirimavo, but she had not contested a seat at the election and was therefore not a Member of Parliament. Precedents were sought. The opinions of learned professors of Constitutional Law were obtained. All were of the view that it would be unconstitutional to appoint Sirimavo as Prime Minister, except one, a Professor of Law at the University of London. Our Constitution requires the Governor-General to act in the same way as the Queen would act in the United Kingdom, and no Prime Minister from the House of Lords had been appointed for many years.

The last one was Lord Salisbury in 1895. The Earl of Home renounced his Earldom to contest a parliamentary by-election. Sir Oliver acted on the opinion of the Professor who was in favour of Mrs Bandaranaike. In this opinion, the Professor stated, after quoting a precedent from Southern Rhodesia, that “it would be constitutionally proper for the Governor-General to invite Mrs Bandaranaike to take office as Prime Minister.

“However, the Governor-General would have to take into consideration the fact that Mrs Bandaranaike had not apparently found it practicable to stand as a candidate for election and the possibility that she might not be able to find a suitable constituency even after her appointment or that she might be defeated at a by-election if she did stand as a candidate. It would clearly be improper for her as Prime Minister to advise the Governor-General to appoint her as a nominated member of either House”.

Mrs Bandaranaike became Prime Minister with a seat in the Senate. In the matter of this appointment, did or did not the Governor-General act on advice? If he did, then, the advice could only be given by the Prime Minister, and that would have been unconstitutional. If he did not, he openly flouted our Constitution. In any case, it is an extremely nice point for our legal pundits.

The Prime Minister’s chair in the House of Representatives was unoccupied and remained vacant. She became the first woman Prime Minister in the world. Because of this most unusual situation of the Prime Minister not being in the House of Representatives, Felix Dias and J. P. Obeysekera stated in public that they would resign their seats to enable the Prime Minister to contest a seat and win a by-election. There is no doubt that, had she contested a seat, she would have won on the wave of sympathy then prevailing in the people’s mind for her late husband. But neither resigned; she did not contest a seat and continued to be Prime Minister with her seat in the Senate.

A Cabinet of eleven was formed. Apart from the old stagers, there was Felix Dias who was given the key posts of Finance and Parliamentary Secretary to the Prime Minister, Sam P. C. Fernando, a colleague of mine at the Bar (Justice), Badiuddin Mahamud (Education), Mahanama Samaraweera (Local Government) and Sarath Wijesinghe, a classmate of mine at the Royal College (Labour and Nationalised Services). Serious problems awaited the attention of the Government. There were a few able men in the Cabinet; but their main handicap was a lack of experience.

The Prime Minister herself was at a great disadvantage in that she had had no experience of the business of politics. She asked for my assistance, which would have been readily available to her unasked. I was amazed to see how quickly she gathered the reins. In a few months, she had grasped the essentials of how to run a Cabinet meeting and conduct Cabinet business. Always in the background was Felix Dias, virtual Prime Minister, who ran the meetings, a fact which several other Ministers strongly resented.

Madam Prime Minister, like her husband, was always late for a meeting. Felix would come with certain items on the Agenda ticked off with a blue pencil and say ‘Mr Peiris, these items can be taken as approved.’ There was no discussion; and it went on the records as a decision of the Cabinet.

Madam Sirimavo, in spite of her lack of political training, had a marvelous retentive memory. She did not know who my father was and I did not tell her. My father and the Prime Minister’s father, the late Barnes Ratwatte Dissawe, had been very good friends. They belonged to that old class of Chief Headmen, now replaced by a Divisional Revenue Officers’ Service.

When my brother G. S. was appointed Ambassador to Burma, he paid a courtesy call on the Prime Minister who had asked him about his family. He had said his father was Gate Mudaliyar Edmund Peiris and that I was his eldest brother. The Prime Minister had looked surprised for a moment and then told my brother that, before her marriage, her father had gone on medical advice to spend a short holiday by the seaside at Panadura. She had accompanied her father.

The Dissawe had taken on rent a small bungalow not to be compared with the comforts he enjoyed at his Walauwa at Balangoda. When my father heard that his old friend was in town, he had invited the father and daughter to dinner. As usual, my father had acted the good host and the daughter, with her memory, had given my brother a detailed account of the evening.

After a few meetings in the Cabinet Room, Sirimavo changed the venue to Temple Trees, a most unsatisfactory arrangement from the view of the Secretariat although it was excellent from the security angle. The gates were always kept closed and were guarded by about three armed men of the militia. Further inland, hidden among the bushes, were two mounted guns pointing at the gates. The grounds were constantly being patrolled by the guards.

But the files and the reference books which might be wanted during a meeting were all in the Cabinet Office. If a file or a book was required, I had to telephone the office and what was wanted took some time in coming. More than once, I mentioned to the Cabinet the inconvenience of holding the meetings at Temple Trees and at last, after many months had passed, the Ministers agreed to meet once again in the Cabinet Room.

I had told the Cabinet that on meeting days, there were about nine police officers on duty, some in plain clothes, but that all were fully armed. I reminded them I was responsible for their safety during meetings and that all security measures had been taken. Felix Dias retorted, “What’s the use Mr Peiris of you talking of your responsibility and our safety after we are shot.”

For reasons of security, I asked that I be given the power to appoint all future minor employees to the Cabinet Office. This was necessary as these employees served the Ministers with tea and refreshments during a meeting and Treasury circulars required me to get them from the Employment Exchange, and I would not know their background. My request was granted and I filled the first vacancy of sweeper which arose by the appointment of the son of the Senate cook whom I knew to be sober and well behaved.

Some time later, two more vacancies arose. In one case, Felix Dias asked me not to fill the vacancy saying that he would send me a good man from Dompe, his constituency, which he did; and in the other case, I was told that Madam Prime Minister would be sending a man from Horagolla and that I was not to make an appointment on my own. And so, politics for the first time crept into the Cabinet Office at the level of sweeper.

The first Queen’s Speech of Sirimavo’s Government brought them into trouble. Felix Dias interpolated several paragraphs into the draft I had carefully prepared. He did not give a thought to the consequences. The Speech outlines the proposals which the Government intends to implement during the Session. It does not go into very great detail. With my experience, I thought my draft was good in that I had used expressions like” My Government will consider…; My Government intends…; My Government hopes etc.” thereby leaving a way of escape if the Government found it impossible to implement the proposals either for lack of Parliamentary time or for other practical or financial difficulties.

But this did not satisfy Felix. He asked “Why consider, hopes? Say, My Government will”. The Speech therefore contained some definite promises against all my mild protests. These, I know, could not be implemented during the Session. To illustrate my point I shall quote from the Speech of August 12, 1960. None of these proposals had been implemented in 1962:

My Prime Minister will take up the case of persons of Indian descent resident in Ceylon with a view to achieving a satisfactory solution of the problem…

Steps will be taken to revise the Constitution to establish a Republican form of Government…

My Government will introduce a scheme of national service for the youth of this country…

The Prime Minister, once she had got herself properly in the saddle, which was in about six months, was a different woman from the one I had welcomed earlier to her first Cabinet meeting. She was no longer playing second fiddle in her country’s orchestra. She had become a world figure whose word was law. She was the maestro who once said in public “There is no one in this country who can control me”. She wielded a powerful baton under which her bandsmen were made to keep a strict tempo.

It was rumoured that the Prime Minister’s ear was easily accessible to those who cared to tell her who were the friends of the Government and who were its enemies. Public servants were beginning to feel nervous. A false word about a public servant was capable of doing him much damage; and vice versa. There were a few at this time who were having an eye on my place.

There were a few others who would have been glad to see me go. Whether anything, and if so what, was being said about me, I did not know; but I got an early opportunity of speaking to Madam direct about myself.

It happened at a Cabinet meeting when the discussion turned on senior public servants meddling in politics. I turned round to Madam and said I did not know what she had heard about me, that I had no politics and that I spent my spare time with my books, my music and the few friends that I had. I added that my only politics had been limited to exercising my right as a citizen to vote at a general election but that, in order to be at peace with my own conscience and to be perfectly honest, I must tell her that I had always voted UNP. She said, “Mr Peiris, I admire your frankness. Very few would have told me that.”

I continued to serve her loyally. At the next meeting, I showed her the original of the following letter written to me by her late husband after he had left D.S.’s Cabinet and formed his own party.

My dear Peiris,

Thanks for your letter of 13. 07. 51. I much appreciate all you say. Please accept my thanks for the unfailing courtesy and help I always received from you.

Yours sincerely

S.W.R.D. Bandararnaike.

She looked hard at this letter for some time and said “He has written this letter himself. He rarely does that. He dictates them and has them typed.”