April 12, 2020 marks Lakshman Kadirgamar’s 88th birth anniversary. While he may be long gone, I continue to discover new information about my father, exposing interesting facets of his life and times.
I have known since my teenage years that my uncle, Sam Kadirgamar QC (LK’s eldest brother), collected all manner of family memorabilia (press cuttings, photos, letters and so on) which he stored in‘black boxes’ for posterity. What I didn’t know was that he had left strict instructions that all material related to my father should be handed over to me after my 30th birthday. It never happened at that time but now several decades later the infamous black box is finally in my possession and what a treasure trove it is proving to be.
Most revealing is the correspondence between the two brothers dating back 60 years to a long gone era of formal letter writing, which provides fascinating insight as to how people communicated before the age of the internet, emails, direct dial international calls, and the like. Sam’s letters are full of advice to his student brother, updates on politics and family matters in Ceylon and sometimes a mild scolding and a few harsh words.
Lakshman left Ceylon to attend Balliol College, Oxford in September 1955 at the age of 23. Sam who was 15 years older than LK was very much a father figure throughout his life, and whose counsel LK respected.
Perhaps because both Sam and LK were lawyers, their correspondence was more detailed (especially when discussing ongoing legal cases) and more frequent than one would expect of brothers. They were constantly apologizing for the delay in answering. Often letters used to cross during their trans-Atlantic postal journey, so as older folk may remember one had to commence a letter stating, “I have just received your letter(s) dated…” Many a time LK would acknowledge receipt of three of Sam’s letters in one go.
Financial woes
It is somewhat sad to note that many of the letters between the brothers were purely about money matters. LK gives detailed accounts of the cost of living and studying in England and the struggle to make ends meet with his monthly allowance.
There is detailed correspondence regarding financial, investment and tax matters that are worthy of record. They are testament to a time when foreign exchange was viciously controlled in Ceylon and students like LK had a painful time extricating money out of the country for studies abroad. Without Sam overlooking financial matters for his younger brother, as evidenced by the numerous copies of letters to the Controller of Exchange and the Bank of Ceylon, it is doubtful LK would have been able to complete his university education.
In a letter dated May 15, 1956, Sam informs his brother that he has “arranged investments which will produce over Rs. 620/- a month, net profit. This should allay all your fears and you can be assured of an easy and comfortable stay in England without any difficulty.” Sixty four years later we cannot even fathom the notion of living abroad on that sum!
The most fascinating thing about old letters (and in this case old preserved receipts) is the details of everyday life and in particular, reference to the spectacular difference in the cost of living of the time. For instance: a suit for LK made by The Prince of Wales Tailoring Establishment, Kandy cost Rs. 157.50 in 1949; three white shirts from Arjan Silk Store, Pettah cost Rs. 27/-;a Raleigh bicycle from Hunter & Co. was Rs. 215.25 in 1950; annual membership to The Automobile Association of Ceylon was a mere Rs. 30/-.
LK at Oxford
Of eternal interest is the information about LK’s London and Oxford days. In May 1956 he tells Sam, “I am looking forward to this spell in Oxford because I can see that it will give me the opportunity I have long wanted, of stretching myself to the utmost, of undertaking a task which if successfully completed, will give me a feeling of achievement and fulfilment. The advantage of staying in a place like London House is that one meets men of great ability and of all types from many parts of the world. One’s critical faculties develop rapidly in such an environment and I am sure the process will be continued at Oxford.”
In this same letter there is this almost prophetic paragraph:“I intend to explore the possibility of joining some world organization like the ILO or UNO or even the International Court of Justice, preferably, but not necessarily in a legal capacity. Such employment is not impossible to secure if one sets about it in the right way. However, there’s plenty of time.”
In fact, 18 years later he would begin his illustrious career at the UN by joining first the International Labour Organisation (ILO) and then the World Intellectual Property Organisation (WIPO) where he became a renowned expert on Intellectual Property.
Political prediction
In a letter to Lakshman dated October 21, 1959, Sam revealed the following prophecy:“I do not know how well posted you are with Ceylon news, especially Banda’s (SWRD Bandaranaike) death and the aftermath. Curious it is that he could not keep his date with his portrait at the Oxford Union because he had to keep his prior engagement with his Destiny. I am not saying this flippantly. A friend of mine, Thambirajah by name, who is an obscure govt clerk and a Roman Catholic is also a seer, not an astrologer. In March of this year he foretold to me all the events including the Cabinet crisis in May, the political disappearance of Philip Gunawardene and the complete “snuffing out”(his words) of Banda by death and assassination. He also, long before the event, foretold the communal riots of 1958 to the very day.”
Prime Minister S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike studying at Christ Church,had been Secretary and Treasurer of the Oxford Union in 1923. After he became Prime Minister of Ceylon in 1956, a number of Presidents wrote to him inviting him to speak at the Union. He ignored them all until suddenly in September 1959, he wrote saying that he wanted to speak on the subject “Democracy is unsuitable for developing nations”.
It was to be an exciting event SWRD was coming back to Oxford after 30 years. Tragically on September 26, the Saturday before the debate, he was assassinated. Lakshman was asked to speak in his place and had this to say: “Looking back on it now, (and on reading some of the reviews of the time, and in view of the haunting tragedy that had occurred, and I had been somewhat critical of Mr. Bandaranaike in the previous year about certain things he had done), I think perhaps that was the best speech I ever made in my life. I chose to oppose. I was certain that Prime Minister Bandaranaike would have done the same. The motion was resoundingly defeated. I would like to recall his memory this evening. It is he who made Sri Lanka aware of the Oxford Union.”(The Cake that was Baked at Home, Third Ed, Sept 2017, pg. 107).
A Way with words
Many of my concerns during the 70s as to why my father was always holed up in his home office in the evenings, even after a long day’s work, are now clearly explained by the fact that he wrote copious amounts of letters and could never keep up with the backlog. This art of correspondence, however, was the key to his unsurpassed networking skills which were to prove priceless during the course of his professional life. It is clear that the UN job opportunity came about partly due to this networking ability, something he commenced while a student at Oxford, fine-tuned at the Bar in London and further built on during his years practising law in Ceylon.
Though much of LK’s correspondence is very formal and businesslike there are flashes of a creative streak that suddenly surface in the most charming manner. For instance:
“I spent a refreshing and rewarding week in Paris. It is a city which in every way lived up to my expectations of it. London has no centre of student life – no cafes, bistros and little restaurants where one can sit for hours on a fine spring morning and see the world go by. The narrow streets and time-worn cobbled pavements of the Latin Quarter with tall, leprous houses lurching towards one another in queer attitudes, as though they had all been frozen in the act of collapse, the gay cafes, bars and nightclubs on Montparnasse - this is the spirited home of sixty thousand students of the University of Paris – some of them miserably poor – and countless waifs and strays who find their way from all parts of the globe.”(12/4/56 - Letter to Sam)
“Oxford is gloriously beautiful these days – and our garden is a dream. As luck would have it when we bought this house, we acquired a gardener with it – a fine old man called Kendall who has looked after it for 15 years. The lawn is like a billiard table. The flower beds are ablaze with colour – tulips in one corner and all manner of beautiful things. It is a constant surprise as Kendall himself has delightfully forgotten what exactly he planted last year and where. Every day we look forward to a new burst of blooms. There are climbing roses and lilacs and little flowering apple trees and cherry blossoms. It is marvelously soothing and agreeable and I don’t have to look after it myself.” (Letter to Sam).
Finding Collette in Oxford
“I had an amusing experience the other day. When I walked into the Talbot Gallery in Woodstock Road, I saw prominently displayed a crayon portrait of a Churchillian figure in a style remarkably reminiscent of Collette. The gallery owner thought it was a portrait of Churchill by a French cartoonist! I disputed this even before seeing the signature - and there it was -R.L. Pereira by Collette in 1954. RL looking every bit like Churchill - jaw thrust out aggressively, cigar in mouth, half glasses on the tip of his nose, a scowl, a stoop, the commanding presence, the hooded eyes glaring, penetrating. I said I knew both painter and subject. The owner said he bought it at a London auction for £12.50. Who could have sold it? Mrs. West, RL’s daughter? The owner would have sold it as a Churchill for at least £25. Once I had identified it, he had to sell it to me at a cut price of £9 and take the loss for an error of judgement.” (Letter to Sam 15/5/1973).
From the Oxford Union to Parliament
“I made my farewell speech last Thursday and when I finished, I received an unexpectedly long ovation from which I gathered that my term of office had been a success. I was very moved - who wouldn’t be -and I know that this experience is of its kind unique. Nothing in life will ever be like it. I have learnt a lot.” (Letter to Sam 16/3/1959).
And then there is this gem of a story recounted in March 1972, which I find rather prophetic too.
“I attended the debate last Thursday night. The Tribunal found the incumbent President guilty of grave malpractices; he tendered his resignation on the floor of the House and then pandemonium broke loose. Allegations and counter allegations were flung about by interested parties; the packed House of about 750 undergraduates was tense; blows could have been exchanged any minute. The psychological moment had arrived for me to intervene – and I did. As I stepped up to the despatch box – after 13 years, and now a complete stranger unknown to a single soul in the House, without the authority of the Chair or the trappings of office, the House became quiet and still. I could have been man from Mars, for all they knew. Who is this man, they must have wondered? When man and moment meet there is some strange alchemy at work. A moment before there was booing and hissing and jeering and shouting; but now, out of bedlam a strange stillness was born. I spoke quietly, soothing a savage beast. There was pin drop silence. I had gripped the House again. I had them all in the palm of my hand – and I don’t know if I have said this to you before, once you have had the hearts and minds of hundreds of intelligent people completely within your control, even for a few minutes, to do with them as you please, life can never be the same gain; one has participated in some primordial ritual of communion.”
It seems evident now that this experience in 1972 was a significant moment for LK, the moment that cemented his intellectual destiny, the prelude perhaps to his political career 22 years later. That he was destined for a bigger stage to address international audiences, that he was eminently qualified to face the ‘savage beast’ (Sri Lanka’s Parliament) with his powers of reasoning, and to reach the hearts and minds of an entire nation is now a matter of history.