Appreciations
View(s):Anil Moonesinghe
Nationalist-Internationalist who was a man of the people
My father, the late Anil Moonesinghe, was born 89 years ago on February 15, 1927. Receiving his names, “Anil Kumar” from his great-uncle Anagarika Dharmapala, he was brought up in the nationalist tradition.
The Ceylon he was brought up in was very different from today’s Sri Lanka. The country was a crown colony of a distant monarch, his bearded visage gracing the drawing rooms of most middle-class families.
The vast majority of indigenous inhabitants were subjugated citizens, ruled over by the British ruling class, held in subjection by the cohorts of the notorious Inspector General of Police Herbert Dowbiggin. This experience meant he never lost sight of his national roots.
This nationalism made him an easy convert to Trotskyism for the legendary Royal College English master RCL (“Dickie) Attygalle – whose Samasamajist pseudonym was “Rudra”.
The Marxists were actually doing something to get independence, while the leaders of the compradore elite were supine. In London, he spent more time on politics than on Law studies.
He joined the Revolutionary Communist Party, the British arm of the Fourth International – his pseudonym was “Anil Kumaran”. The internationalism that he lived there was never to leave him.
He was one of the founder members of the Socialist Review group, led by Tony Cliff. He worked as crane operator in a forge, and joined the trade union movement and the Labour Party. This experience was to be invaluable to him in later years.
Returning to Sri Lanka, the Lanka Estate Workers’ Union sent him to Mohomediya Estate in Agalawatte to organise a strike.
He lived with the strikers, sharing their food and sleeping on a mat, until the strike was won. On this experience, the Agalawatte locale of the LSSP asked that he be made the party’s parliamentary candidate for the electorate.
He entered Parliament in 1956 amidst the plebeian-nationalist wave which brought S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike’s Mahajana EksathPeramuna to office.
As Minister of Communications, he inaugurated work on the Katunayake Airport and created the Central Bus Stand in the Pettah, but held off on signing a contract to manufacture FIAT buses for the Chinese market because of an impending election.
Later, as Chair of the Ceylon Transport Board, he built bus depots and termini, as well as docking stations and workshops,all over the country, and started work on a visionary new multi-storey bus station complex in the Pettah, which remains uncompleted to this day.
He worked together with members of the nascent industrial bourgeoisie, such as P.D. Alexander of DIMO and Victor Jayamaha of Victory Motors, to source motor parts locally in order to build up the automotive industry.
He proposed a motor-industry common market with India, enabling Indian manufacturers to sell their vehicles in Sri Lanka, while giving domestic manufacturers of spare parts, especially rubber items, access to the vast Indian market.
When this fell through, he concentrated on building the domestic supply chain. The first bus built in Sri Lanka, the Lanka 1, was his baby, but unfortunately never got past the prototype stage, although all the machinery and tools were in place at the Werahera Workshops.
He was committed to building up Sri Lanka’s industries: his forebears had been some of the first industrial bourgeois in Sri Lanka, starting a modern furniture plant and the “Two Elephants” match factory and the Hewavitarne Textile School in Rajagiriya.
He had admiration for far-seeing local industrialists such as Sir Cyril de Zoysa and AYS Gnanam.After leaving the CTB he attempted to continue a project he had started making (rather than merely assembling) motor cars in Sri Lanka.
He was appalled that the manufacturing sector, built up by the self-reliant economic regime of 1956-77, was destroyed in just six years.
His second stint in Parliament was far more harrowing than his first. He re-entered the House with Sirimavo Bandaranaike’s SLFP,via a by-election in Matugama in the wake of the notorious 1982 Referendum.
The country faced the outbreak of Tiger terrorism and a state-sponsored pogrom. He asked that the country be put on a war footing, but was told privately that the Government didn’t want to do so because that would impact its popularity.
He asked that the Navy be strengthened, rather than the Army, because eventually the conflict would only be resolved by blockading the Tigers.
In 1987, JR Jayewardene bowed to pressure and signed the Indo-Lanka Accord. My father was horrified. He had followed in the tradition of Anagarika Dharma-pala, who had been an Indophile.
He (together with a slew of Sri Lankans) had looked up to the Indian bourgeoisie, whose leaders, such as Mahatma Gandhi, Subhas Chandra Bose, and Jawaharlal Nehru, unlike their Sri Lankan equivalents, had actively struggled against the British Raj.
So he was appalled at the aggressive behaviour of Nehru’s grandson Rajiv Gandhi.When the Indian Peace Keeping Force went on the rampage in Kalawanchikudy, burning a kovil and massacring innocent civilians, including R. Chakravarthy, son of former ITAK MP for Pottuvil, SM Rasamannikkam, my father raised the matter in Parliament.
The then government took no action and neither did the so-called “International Community”.
For my father, this was a crime against humanity, as had been the pogroms against Tamil people in 1977 and 1983, the burning of the Jaffna Library, the anti-Tamil riots of 1958, right back to the inhuman treatment of estate workers under the British Plantation Raj.
However, he was no wishy-washy politician, willing to sacrifice the integrity and sovereignty of the country, making it an easy target for neo-colonialism.
It was probably this nationalist, anti-colonialist stance that caused the neo-liberal Chandrika Kumaratunga to shove him out of the SLFP front ranks.
He had been transport spokesman for the SLFP and was the obvious choice for Minister of Transport. However, the national good was thrown aside as lesser persons, with neither his experience nor his ability, were appointed in his stead.
This was to rankle with him for the rest of his life: not that he lost rank, but that he was unable to serve his nation and to salvage the transport sector, which remains in ruins.
His legacy is the admiration with which ordinary bus commuters have treated his administration of the CTB, which has become legendary.
-Previn Moonesinghe
K.N. Choksy
There he was! Straight out of one thousand and one Arabian Nights
Those who entered his chambers were noted for their sudden elevation in maturity, contemplative countenance and courtesy. Their words were now measured, their questions relevant, and to do with men and matters.
Their answers; to the point. They became empathetic, courteous, and respectful. Even to the canteen keeper and his waiters at the Law College they were now courteous and patient.
They did not show any anger when the tea came late. The boisterous Law student is now a gentleman. All of which were approvingly noted by the more discerning lady students.
His juniors in practice were well known for their finesse and decorum. Yes, K.N. Choksy Attorney-at-Law was a living legend in the corridors of Hulftsdorp long before he took silk as a President’s Counsel.
It was my mother who reminded me to pen a letter to my paternal uncle. It is he who changed my mind to take to the law instead of medicine!
He discouraged me so much from taking to the law, until it became a challenge to me. He said that in two years, a counsel with an average trial practice would have read as much, and, even more than what would be required for a doctorate!
Every case is different, every witness is different, every client is different, and every day is different. It is the most demanding profession he said.
It was a deliberate strategy. It was B.J. Fernando, a leading civil lawyer, serving then as the Permanent Representative of Sri Lanka at the UN, that I wrote to.
Two letters of introduction promptly followed. One to A.C. De Soysa QC., better known as Bunty Soysa for criminal law, and the other for civil law training to K.N. Choksy PC.!
Though I had seen Mr. Choksy in full court attire, the first day I saw him in his chambers in casual wear, I recognized him instantly.
Even without the attire, there was the unassuming, but visibly sharp mind that reminded me of a high priest of a temple of justice, of a faraway land. A grand vizier, straight out of Scheherazade’s one thousand and one Arabian Nights.
Then it dawned on me, that in fact, he adorned the attire.
There was something inherently good about him. There was no evil, no trace of envy, no greed, only empathy born of deep learning.
A person of few words, each word mattered. While in his Chambers Mr. Choksy recommended me to the Chambers of Mr. S.J.C. Kadirgarmar QC., for an assignment. After a few assignments as junior to Mr. Kadirgarmar QC., I was called back to Mr. Choksy’s chambers.
Before long I was faced with a dilemma. B.J. Fernando reverted to the Bar under extraordinary circumstances. He was under surveillance around the clock.
But even under those circumstances BJ was choosy. He asked me to read a full page article in the papers about his escapade, with instructions to pretend as if I was addressing court.
After that, as if satisfied, he told me I will have to be his junior. He told me he will not be able to call for a 1/3 junior’s fee and in most cases any fee, as I am his nephew and due to the principle against nepotism. I told him I would inform Mr. Choksy and come.
When I told Mr. Choksy of my decision, he knew well the extraordinary circumstances of Mr. Fernando. Mr. Choksy’s response to my decision was a one word observation, he said with concern; “Brave”.
The ramifications of that observation reached me many years after. Mr. Choksy had sight beyond sight. He impressed on us the need to develop that, by example.
When Sri Lanka’s Economy was measured in the negative, and the Treasury yet again claimed to be empty, Mr. Choksy accepted the portfolio of Minister of Finane. The very acceptance of that portfolio by a professional of his calibre instilled hope and confidence in the economy.
The bar, taught us how to stand tall in any forum anywhere in the world.
In a faraway land, a taxi driver asked me how I could administer the law in different countries especially when they are oceans apart, and the law being different from country to country even within the same continent.
I replied; “it is justice that I administer, and justice is the same anywhere in the world, though you may arrive at it differently”. He applied the brakes, took a deep breath and with watery eyes said “well said your lordship well said”.
We are what our teachers taught use to be. None of us could be a Choksy; we simply did not have the genes! Mr. Choksy, you left your son Vishtasp to the bar, just like your father Mr. N.K. Choksy QC., did you to the bar.
You became even more famous than your father who was a puisne judge as well. That is a rare feat at the bar. Your other two sons are equally illustrious.
Jamsheed is a Professor at the University of Indianapolis in the USA, and Khush is the Head of the Middle East Unit of the US Chamber of Commerce in Washington.
To Mrs. Choksy all your juniors were like her children. At a distance she saw to our welfare at your chambers.
After over 58 years at the Bar you left us on February 5 last year.
But your standard remains.
You showed us the good life.
-Yohan Fernando
O.L.M. Ismail
My father, my friend and my hero
Six years have passed since that day I received a call from my cousin saying my father, was seriously ill but he wished to speak to me. My beloved father’s voice was faint this last time and all he could say was my name.
Being in the medical profession I could guess that my father’s time on this good earth was coming to an end. He passed away peacefully that night just a few days short of his 89th birthday.
My father’s last day in this world is worth describing in a little detail as it is but a microcosm of his life in general. As was his practice, he had woken up at 4.30 a.m., made his own cup of coffee, woken up his granddaughter, prayed Fajr and worked in his office which was in the house.
He saw a few clients in the morning and even prepared a deed. A few days before this, he had even attended courts. Yes! He worked almost until his last breath!
In the afternoon, he had dispatched his faithful clerk of almost 50 years standing to the doctor as he was not feeling well. His clerk recovered but my father passed away that evening.
Work kept him happy and you could say that my father died with his boots on. His last day in this world reveals his penchant for hard work, his piety which he however never wore on a sleeve, his compassion for others, and his sturdy independent nature.
The last of these qualities was at times taken to the point of being obdurate as he could be when my brother gave him some advice on tax or yours truly some unsolicited but well-meaning medical advice!
My father was one of five siblings, four boys and one girl all of whom predeceased him. He spent almost his entire life, barring his Law College days, in his beloved Trincomalee.
He had his schooling at St. Joseph’s College, Trincomalee studying under American and European Jesuit priests. As was the norm at the time, English literature and Latin were par for the course.
He was a good soccer player but in his own words, an average finisher! Some of his contemporaries at school and Law College were late E.R.S.R. Coomaraswamy(QC), Justice Abdul Cader and Paul Perera(QC). As a child, I have seen his carefully preserved lecture notes written in beautiful long hand.
Having passed his Law exams well in 1945, he was offered apprenticeship in a well-established Law firm in Colombo but declined in order to return to his native Trincomalee.
He married my mother who hailed from a land-owning family from Kinniya and gradually established a thriving practice.
He practised law for almost 65 years.
He was especially good in civil law. He was meticulous and thorough in his preparations, calm and measured in his dealings and honest to a fault.
His clients had utmost trust and confidence in him. His fees were extremely modest but because of a large clientele, sufficient to keep the family happy.
He was widely respected and loved by all communities in Trincomalee. He was an extremely generous person and helped almost anybody who came to him.
He was the president of both the Oxfam organisation, Trincomalee and the Trincomalee Muslim Development Fund. He was instrumental in many projects putting up houses and providing drinking water to villages.
He was also President of the Scout movement, Trincomalee and President of the OBA, St. Joseph’s College, Trincomalee. He was also involved in the Ahadiya movement and the then WAKF board. In 1978, he contested the local government elections under the UNP and was the leader of the opposition.
Despite his very busy legal and social life, he was essentially a devoted family man. He would encourage us to discuss and debate contemporary topics.
He tried to have most of us at the dinner table regularly. He enjoyed simple food but this had to be piping hot! Till late in his life, he would send us and later his grandchildren interesting newspaper cuttings, poems or an encouraging hand written letter.
He worked till late at night but would still rise by 4 a.m.! He would then badger and coax us to get up which we all did eventually!
This habit of rising early persisted with me throughout my life and I consider it as one of the many gifts bequeathed to me by my father.
My father enjoyed taking long morning walks, invariably, accompanied by some of us kids. He would always have his walking stick and sometimes wear a “muffler”.
He would walk at a very brisk clip, making us run at times to keep up. These walks with my father were not only physically invigorating but also intellectually stimulating as various topics of interest would be discussed.
The Trincomalee harbour and beach were usually part of the terrain of these walks. Even on trips to Colombo, which were very frequent, morning walks at Galle Face were routine. This is another “gift” which I still fondly cherish.
After the age of 15, when I moved to Royal College Colombo and later Medical College, my contact with my father was mainly over the phone.
These phone conversations continued throughout his life even while I was in the UK. He was an extremely well read person and could talk on almost anything. His conversations were always cheerful and encouraging.
His grandchildren loved receiving calls from him — for them there was no generation gap! For me personally, on particularly rough days, hearing his voice alone was reassuring.
Even such a wonderful human being had his hour of darkness when he was falsely accused by some of legal wrongdoing, the alleged incident occurring 30 years ago.
This was instigated by an official who had sought my father’s backing as a senior member of the bar for something which my father thought was ethically wrong.
He flatly refused to go along. Throughout the long drawn out legal proceedings, to clear his name, my father was brave. He was eventually fully cleared by the courts.
Overcome by emotion at the verdict, my father paid thanks to the almighty on the floors of the Supreme Court – his steadfast faith in the creator had not let him down.
My siblings and I have had the privilege of having had a wonderful person as a father and our children, a doting grandfather. No child could have asked for any one better.
I owe my humble achievements in the surgical field to him. Time has not dulled our memories of him – his ramrod stance, aquiline features, sartorial elegance, gentle laughter, generosity and his contempt for anything or anyone corrupt or dishonest – all etched in our minds’ eye.
On behalf of my siblings and our children and on the eve of what would have been his 95th birthday, Thank you father. We miss you. May Allah grant him Jennathul Firdhouse.
-Imtiaz Ismail
Dilip Motha
Solace in walking down the memory of our years
Darling Dil, when I penned an appreciation for Daddy number two – ten months ago, little did I know that I would have to write again in such a short interval for you my very own beloved.
I still cannot believe that you are no longer with me in person, though I feel your presence in every nook and corner of our home, and in my heart so intensely.
January 25, dawned as usual. I did not feel any a change in you or in the environment that hinted of an impending disaster to separate you from me.
Then the news reached me that your life had been snatched without any warning. My whole being since has come to a standstill. Days dawn and nights fall, I do not know what happens in between.
When I boasted of our marriage, ‘22 years’ sounded a great deal, yet in retrospect, it is too short a journey. I find solace in walking down the memory of our years together.
My heart is still warm with the memories of our meeting in our work place World Vision Lanka (WVL) 26 years ago. It was on October 2, 1989 that you joined the organisation as the Audit Manager.
Your department was an exclusive male team. I was in the Sponsorship Department, an exclusive ladies team. I remember the first day you joined the ‘girls’ for lunch with your ‘boys’.
There was so much fun and frolic. I remember each and every word that was shared at that lunch table.
You celebrated your birthday on February 6 with a home-made treat in office which got us into deeper dialogue. It was then that I got to know that you were Therese Motha’s son.
I was a fan of her column in a women’s weekly. You proposed marriage to me on February 26 in 1990 a day after my birthday.
We were the first couple to fall in love at WVL.
Being a smaller organisation than it is today, the regulation was that married couples were not permitted to continue in employment. Hence you chose to leave your employment for the love of me.
We were married on December 11, 1993 after a very long courtship. Dad built a house for us so we moved in straight to our own world.
Rajeev, our nephew became our instant pride. As time went by, all our friends were blessed with cherubs, and the little ones pronounced your name differently.
You were ‘ Dip uncle’, ‘Dilid uncle’ and ‘Delete uncle’ to them. Accordingly I too started calling you by those names.
It was only at your funeral that mom and I got to know about your social work as many people shared their stories of your being an angel of provision to them. I am glad that you chose to do that unaware to us, because you have lived the Kingdom Values.
Dil, your toils have not gone in vain as we are now reaping the harvest of your gestures through others. We are surrounded by friends and families.
You will be surprised and happy to know that we are being taken care of with such support and concern by them. Dil, I am glad that you introduced your classmates to me at the 50th anniversary bash. It is they who are carrying a heavier burden in seeing to your affairs and our wellbeing and welfare.
This day along with many others, there are two Mrs. Mothas weeping for you— mom and me. I lost my husband and a father, Mom lost her husband and her beloved son.
Right now I am in the presence of caring individuals who are angels on earth, yet the loneliness I feel is unexplainable…You alone know the reason.
I yearn to be with you in a better world and that I will get yet another chance to hold your hand and walk through a shady path. Till then rest my love… I remain… Yours and yours alone.
-Niranjali Ramiah Motha