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S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike: A man for all seasons
Bandaranaike Oration, U.K. '98

By Dr. Buddhadasa Bodhinayake FRCPsych, Consultant Psychiatrist & Lead Clinician in Postgraduate education Barking Havering & Brentwood Health authority, U. K. Delivered at Brent Town Hall, U. K. on 25th September, 1998.

When Mr. Bandaraniake passed away on the 26th of September 1959, I was still a teenager at Ananda College studying for my medical entrance examination. Amidst the shock and the disbelief at the news of his death, I was particularly touched by the valiant efforts of our medical luminaries at the time, who tried to save his life - in particular the efforts of Dr. P. R. Anthonis, the greatest Sri Lankan general surgeon of our time.

I remember as a wishful teenager how I hoped that one day after graduating as doctor, I would serve under Dr. Anthonis and ask him directly, how Mr. Bandaranaike succumbed, and what he said before he died and so on; and you can imagine my delight when just over 10 years later out of nearly 100 students who graduated with me in 1969, I actually was appointed to be Dr. Anthonis' House Surgeon!

I asked Dr. Anthonis if his efforts to save Mr. Bandaranaike's life still stood out in his memory. He replied.

'Of course I remember our efforts to save Mr. Bandaranaike's life quite vividly, and what he said very clearly- for Mr. Bandaranaike was a man for whom no parallel personality could be found in the entire history of the worldÉ I know of no other man who repeatedly asked that his assailant who fatally wounded him when he was only paying obeisance to him in a traditional Buddhistic way, pardoned. Both before and after the extensive surgery that he had to undergo, Mr. Bandaranaike asked that his assailant be forgiven - not once, but at least five times.'

Dr. Anthonis continued; 'Knowing our people's temperament, you know how, they - even some educated ones - react, when attacked; you hear words such as, 'I will eat your guts, wait until I get my turn, I will kill you and kill myself and so on, but Mr. Bandaranaike's response was most uniquely different and typically 'Bodhisatta-like'.

Dr. Anthonis went even further, 'Mr. Bandaranaike who referred to his assailant as 'a foolish man dressed in yellow robes', could not understand why he deserved to be shot. He therefore questioned: 'Why did this foolish man shoot me? why did he do that?'. If, for example, he had a guilty conscience or some skeletons in his cupboard, he would not have questioned thus.

Shakespeare said; 'Some are born great. Some achieve greatness. Some have greatness thrust upon them' In an enlightened society, just because you are born great, you do not earn the respect of the masses; you do so, only if you achieve greatness through your actions. In my view, Mr. Bandaranaike did exactly that. He achieved greatness through consistent effort and perseverance. This is clearly seen if you delve into his life at Oxford, between 1921 and 1924. In his memories on Oxford life, he deals in considerable detail, the ups and downs, the trials and tribulations and the depressions and the relations of a normal human being, striving to be somebody. Even on the very first day he entered Oxford, he had to go through a rough ride. He recalls, 'I drive straight to Christchurch and leaving my cab with my bags outside, wandered about quite a long time, incidentally getting thoroughly drenched in the drizzle before discovering the ancient staircase that led to the rooms of my senior censor.'

He did not have lodgings in the University itself in the first year, but lied with an English couple and their son. He describes the horror of their sitting room, which was drab, dreary, smug with two porcelain figures on the mantelpiece, with a square box in the centre, pretending to be a clock, although it had long ceased to function! On an evening he wanted to escape from this setting, he went into the junior common room and found at he was completely out of place. To quote his own words; 'I hastily picked up an illustrated paper, crept into a corner seat and ordered tea'. Suddenly there burst into the room, a thin, tall youth, later revealed as Edward Marjorey Banks, who was mobbed, shaken and patted by everyone in a very welcome manner. The young Bandaranaike was determined to become somebody like him, someday.

Mr. Bandaranaike's first year at Oxford was a period of severe disappointment and frustration. The dreams he had about Oxford did not appear realistic. Mr. Bandaranaike says, 'My first year at Oxford, once the novelty of things had worn off and I had settled down to the college routine, I recollect as a period of disappointment and frustration. In all directions I found myself opposed by barriers, which though invisible and impalpable, were nonetheless very real'. Even the story he wrote for the college magazine, was politely returned. To get a trial for one of the Christ Church tennis teams was an apparent impossibility. A few half-hearted efforts to catch the President's eye at the union debates, proved entirely futile, 'but the most humiliating disappointment' he says, was reserved for the social sphere. That he says was more subtle and deep-seated. Mr. Bandaranaike says: 'The trouble was far more subtle and deep-seated; in a variety of ways, one was always being shown politely, but unmistakably, that one simply was not wanted. It was terribly wounding'.

Mr. Bandaranaike recalled that after laboriously patching up an acquaintanceship with one's neighbour at the dinner hall or lectures, he was passed by the very same man in the street, as though he had never seen him, or still worse, see his hurry off with a hasty nod, apparently through fear that he might have to walk with him!

At the same time as all these things were happening, he knew too, that he could write Greek prose, better than many of the scholars there, in long rustling gowns, who looked so superciliously at the 'darkie' who had the temerity to read the honours school of classics. He knew one thing, and one thing very clearly, that if he had to be successful, he had to be patient and keep on trying, and then sooner or later, he would succeed. Added to the mental malaise for him during this period was the physical discomfort of the damp, grey sunless winter.

Still fighting, the young Bandaranaike fell into a deep depression - a kind of mental state, I as a Psychiatrist would have treated with cognitive restructuring (restructuring of thoughts) or even anti-depressants, if required.

Mr. Bandaranaike's depression in as sense, was deep. He says, 'I remember reading Edgar Allen Poe with a morbid delight. The strange mingling of melancholic, horror and beauty seemed to soothe both my mood and my surroundings'. At this point, a strange adventure happened. Whilst returning to his lodgings one evening in that state of depression and disappointment, he passed a beggar on the pavement. He was not an unusual sight, an old, thickly white face, threadbare with gaping boots. He held a few boxes of matches in his hand for sale, and in the usual winging voice, begged for a penny saying that he was very hungry. There was nothing strange or unusual in this sight. Mr. Bandaranaike thought that the old man was probably a humbug, like many of them, and all that he wanted was some money to go to the nearest pub! he recalls, 'I stood and contemplated on him for a moment, and, as the view entered my mind, 'I will not give you money', I said, 'If you are hungry, come along with me and I shall give you something to eat'. And the man came with him! The test was put into action. This man seated before the roaring fire in his room, consumed some enormous quantities of bread, butter and crumpets - such a lot of them! - with a grim concentration, that Mr. Bandaranaike says, 'This sight fascinated me. I had never seen such hunger in a human being before. Gradually with the warmth of the fire and the warmth inside him, he relaxed and became loquacious. Probably a good deal of what he said was false, but there was clearly a thread of truth that ran through his tale - the unseasoned struggle from his younger days against hunger, against cold, against illness and despair'. And what was the effect of all this on the young Bandaranaike? Mr. Bandaranaike's worries faded and depression lifted, before the elemental fight of a man for his very existence. The next day in Mr. Bandaranaike's life, was one with a new heart, a new strength and a new hope!

The story of Mr. Bandaranaike's first speech at a Union Society debate at Oxford is a very moving one. During his first two and a half years at Oxford, he never spoke at a single Union debate, although he made a few unsuccessful efforts to catch the President's eye. His first speech was made on the 17th of November, 1921. The subject of this debate was, 'The present parliamentary system does not answer the needs of modern democracy'. In this debate too he tried many times to catch the President's eye, but without success, until in desperation he sent up a note to him asking whether he would give him a chance of speaking for a few minutes. After a few minutes the President sent it back with the words, 'print your name'. This, Mr. Bandaranaike did and returned the note. Late in the night, shortly before the debate closed, the President invited him with a nod, and Mr. Bandaranaike walked up to the despatch box rather tremblingly and spoke for fifteen minutes. Mr. Bandaranaike says that a few days later, he literally woke up to find himself as famous as Byron! The Oxford publication. 'ISIS' had hailed his speech as the best of the evening. So, the inner portals of Oxford finally opened to the easterner, Bandaranaike.

From there onwards, Bandaranaike's fame spread; he never stopped speaking at important debates. Mr. Bandaranaike says quite frankly, 'Whenever I spoke at the Union debates, I endeavoured to give off my best and summon to the task every resource I possessed, which added to the fact I perhaps had a talent for speaking, produced a result that was overwhelming in its triumph. I am sure, this was partly due to the great trouble I took. Many other speakers were no doubt quite as good, or better than myself, but it did not mean to them, quite all that it meant to me. They probably did not care to take the infinite pains that I took'.

From his first speech which was obtained after considerable difficulty, he was invited to speak at other debates. Britishers themselves complimented him as the best speaker at the Union debates.

Mr. Bandaranaike's independence as a young man was exemplified by the that he steadfastly refused to join any party at the Oxford Union and simply called himself a nationalist. Still, he was able to win the secretaryship of the Union. The beaten candidates included leading members of all the three parties, Conservative, Liberla and Labour.

Soon after Mr. Bandaranaike's election as the Secretary of the Union, a big problem overwhelmed him and that was an illness which was diagnosed as paratyphoid. Listen to Mr. Banaranaike in his own words:

'The low fever in the morning rising sharply towards the noon, reaches its highest as the day progresses. The hot pains in the stomach, dry parched lips, and the throbbing aching head, the darkened room and the smell of disinfectants, the hush voices of the nurses, all heaped to weave a pall of black depression about me. I wondered in my clearer moments, what my attitude to death really was. I decided that it had no fears for me though for my parents, friends, for the work I would have to leave undone, I felt a regret; but deep within myself, and for myself, I had no grief. Nor had I a joy, only a profound impersonal tranquillity.'

When Mr. Bandaranaike returned to the Union after his long illness of a few months, he received a very warm welcome, and was later elected as a Junior Treasurer of the Union. He, however lost the Presidential election, but took it well; he felt if he remained a further year he might have been President, and the Oxonian who beat him, won the Presidency only in his second attempt.

You will have noted that I have concentrated heavily on the association Mr. Bandaranaike had with Oxford. This is because I feel Oxford contributed largely to his growth and development as a young man with ups and downs, orator of great repute, a leader who could take both triumph as well as defeat, and a human being who was capable of facing severe crises.

He returned to Sri Lanka, (then known as Ceylon) in 1925. In 1930, he wrote a very conspicuous article, 'Why I became a Buddhist'! He knew it was a very sensitive topic, and a very personal one too. He said, 'Requests made to me to deliver addresses and write articles on why I became a Buddhist have been numerous. I have been very reluctant to accede to these requests, because man's religious convictions are surely one of those very personal matters that he shrinks from exposing, and parading before the public gaze', Finally, however, he came out with his feeling.

Buddhism, he realized, believed that man must work out his salvation himself, and it appealed irresistibly, he said, to his own mentally. Lord Budha, he observed, was just a man like the rest of us; he was very human, he said. Mr. Bandaranaike asked, how touching was his reluctance to look at his new born son, once his great resolve was made, lest the infant might close his little fist about his heart strings, and pull him back!

The next great lesson in Buddhism he observed was the supremacy of he human mind. Of people convinced of this, he said, should be intellectually alert and vigorous, enterprising in all their undertakings. Buddhism, in fact, had a profound influence on the moulding of Mr. Bandaranaike's greatness.

Speaking of the contribution Buddhism made to world peace, Mr. Bandaranaike talked of the doctrine of 'Anatta' - change. 'Take for instance the Buddhist doctrine of change, 'Anatta'. The doctrine of anatta or change has been borne out strikingly, by modern atomic research and discoveries. When every being consists of a composite mass of separate atoms, all in continual motion, and subject to continual change, does not the doctrine of change to which all things are subject, become easy to understand? The other doctrine is the lack of some 'entity', continuing perpetual entity call it 'soul' or what you like, which is connected with the doctrine of change.

He maintained: 'The Buddha, reminded his devotees that those who sincerely and truly follow the Dhamma reap the benefits of that, here and now'.

He saw that in this world, confused thinking, the inability to think clearly result in untold hardship for mankind. It is so essential and necessary to think rightly, to think clearly, to think with a certain degree of calmness, he said. 'The man who thinks rightly', he continued 'will do other things rightly too'. Right thinking is another teaching of the Buddha he found most valuable.

He observed that Buddha has given mankind the ultimate self-respect, the self-respect that comes from self-reliance as man's salvation is in his own hands, after all.

Buddha rightly pointed out that all ills spring from selfishness - from 'thanha' - craving. If there is no self, he asked, how can there be selfishness?

In a Vesak day message on the chief duty of man, Mr. Bandaranaike uttered those immortal words. 'The chief duty of man is the service of man'.

Thinking of the greatness that characterised the late Mr. S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike, I feel that there are three influences which moulded it. These were his innate tendency to serve mankind, the influence he had from the Buddhist doctrine, and of course, very prominently, the wide life experience he gained from his Oxford years.

In my speech you would have observed that I have dealt mostly with his humanity, perseverance and intellect, but I would be failing in my duty, if I do not say at this point, that before Mr. Bandaranaike assumed power in 1956, an exclusively Sinhala-educated Sri Lankan could find only a second class job in Sri Lanka. It was his proud attitude to the mother tongue, that gave exclusively mother-tongue educated Sri Lankans a chance to rise to the highest positions in the land.

He brought together the famous five forces of the country - the Bhikkus, the indigenous doctors, the teachers, farmers and the labourers, together.

As a nation, we are pleased that his policies, the 'Bandaranaike policies' are respected today, as they were then.

I would like to end this talk recalling, a question I once asked our President Her excellency Mrs. Chandrika Kumaratunga, during the period she spent in this country around 1989-90. One day I asked her, 'Chandrika, what influence did your father have on you?' Her reply was 'Bodhi, don't forget the fact that I was the one who used his library most'.

Thank you and good night!