Rats,
democrats and JR’s sense of humour
Behind
the impenetrable mask, almost legendary in contemporary politics,
was a well-hidden imp - so it seems when you reflect on the personality
of President J.R. Jayewardene. lf he were alive he would have celebrated
his 97th birthday on September 17.
The first Executive
President of Sri Lanka, enjoyed a little joke even on big issues
as heartily as he took pleasure in volleying an innuendo at an opposition
MP in Parliament. His sense of humour, besides being puckish, was
also subtle.
He never allowed
his humour to overrun accepted civil norm. No malice, no personal
castigation. A seasoned parliamentarian, President Jayewardene was
quick on the uptake; perhaps this talent, a rare one, involuntarily
though sharpened his ability to crack and enjoy a joke.
When he was
Opposition Leader in the early '70s - leading a dwarfed, disoriented
UNP in Parliament - he was on his feet referring to the polls debacle
of his party - "I am speaking at a time when it is difficult
even to hunt and find an elephant (the symbol of the UNP).... some
people loyal to the government predict that I will die, thrown in
the gutter..." With amusement well registered on a puckered
face." I don't know how I will die... it's not important.”
On another
occasion Ronnie de Mel from the back-benches of the government ranks
remarked that all the rats in the UNP ship were deserting. Like
lightning JRJ rises even before Mr. de Mel could sit: "There
are no rats here - only democ-rats".
Once JRJ was
sitting in the VIP lounge of the Katunayake Airport with some friends,
awaiting the arrival of a foreign visitor. They were looking at
a Pakistani aircraft on the tarmac displaying the insignia: PIA.
He asks somebody what the acronym denotes - and gets the answer
Pakistani International Airlines. JRJ dead-pans that in Sinhala
diction the letters could be pronounced to mean something obscene.
It is said
that chief executives generally keep off the telephone unless they
are connected through a secretary or some other close aide. Not
JRJ.Throwing all VIP protocol to the winds he would dial a number
and speak to a person directly. But often these calls ended in comic
operas or bewildering confusion. Once at a top-level meeting he
was chairing President Jayewardene suddenly wanted Dr. W.M.ilakaratne,
Secretary to the Treasury, who had not been notified earlier, to
attend the meeting. There were enough officials with him who were
prepared to do his bidding.
But brushing
them aside JRJ dialled the number; it rang but there was no answer.
The time was 8 o'clock in the morning. Perhaps it was too early
for the official to be in office; JRJ then dialled the second-in-command.
No response again. Finally, leafing through the telephone directory
himself, ignoring the outstretched hands of officials he read down
the line of names according to seniority and discovered the name
of the Office Assistant. He dialled again.
When the telephone
was answered, JRJ said President Jayewardene was speaking; the man
let out a guffaw and told him, "Go to hell - I have heard this
before." JRJ hung up and laughed. He was not angry. When Dr.
Tilakaratne finally made his appearance, JRJ told him: "I say,
you have a gutty man there - he told me to go to hell."
Once I walked
into a shop in Maradana and heard some people talking about JRJ's
sudden death. He was in retirement at that time. It's all over,
they said. Later I was with the retired President at his Ward Place
residence when the phone rang. A journalist wanted to find out about
Mr. Jayewardene's health. I said he was okay. JRJ then grabbed the
phone from me and told the caller: "Say the old fox is still
alive and going strong," laughing merrily as he put the receiver
back.
He joked on
the telephone about his death. But in hospital, days before his
death on November 1, 1996 he called me and requested me to respond
to every query about his health or death. "Find out the name
and address of everyone and acknowledge with gratitude, the concern
expressed." -Prematilaka Mapitigama
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