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| Sunday, 5 December 2004 |
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Features |  |
| News Business Features Editorial
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Anton Weerasinghe : The last of a colourful tribe Anton Weerasinghe who died last week was the last remaining figure of a now extinguished era in Sri Lankan journalism. His was the kind of life celebrated in the American legend which invokes the transition from copy boy to Editor. In Anton's case it was from proof reader to Chief Sub Editor.
Anton Weerasinghe whose father was a much respected officer of the Supreme Court left St. Benedict's College, Colombo to join the now defunct Times of Ceylon when that paper was edited by the legendary Frank Moraes, later the Editor of the 'Times of India.' Moraes had been invited by the late Joe Segera to address the college Literary Society and invited any boys who were interested in taking to journalism to meet him. As a result St. Benedict's could boast of a galaxy of journalistic talent at one time. Joe Segera, Felician Fernando, E. C. T. Candappa and Anton all being old Bens. Another major figure was the late Clarence Fernando although his route to the press lay through the Royal Navy. In those times when the country was passing through the curious interregnum between a dying colonialism and nominal Independence it was English journalism which ruled the roost the Sinhala and Tamil press being treated as a poor relation. A high degree of skill in the use of English was required from a sub editor who was the newspaper's last bulwark against a defamation case. Anton honed his skills as a sub on the 'Times' and its morning sister the 'Daily Mirror' edited by the late Fred de Silva and the late Reggie Michael. Once he recalled to me the modesty of Reggie Siriwardena, the country's foremost intellectual journalist, who would stand by the side of the sub editor until the latter finished going through his parliamentary sketch and used to inquire 'Is it alright?' almost deferentially. Not only was it alright but it was brilliant and flawless. In 1968 Anton was among the exodus of Times men to join the 'Observer' on the invitation of its talent-hunting Editor the late Denzil Pieries whose ashes are interred close to the grave of Karl Marx in London's Highgate Cemetery. Among the other Timesmen were the late M. E. Sourjah and B. H. S. Jayewardene, later an Editor of the 'Daily News.' It was as a sub on the 'Observer' that I first met Anton in May 1975 when I too joined Lake House directly from school just as Anton had done in those distant and now enchanting days. Among the other news subs at the time were the Chief Sub Editor W. P. P. de Silva, Ian Jayasinghe and Nimal Fernando with the late W. Lionel Fernando as Editor, Philip Fernando, now domiciled in the USA, as Deputy Editor and the late Carlton Seneviratne as News Editor. Those happy days in the spacious news room overlooking the Regal cinema were the best initiation any young reporter could hope for. It is a measure of how the times have changed and how swiftly that the only figures from that time still serving in the 'Observer' are S. Selvakumar, Carol Aloysius and Karel Roberts Ratnaweera. In 1981 when Upali Wijewardene started 'The Island' newspaper Anton was among the first recruits. Living in Modera he was the first to come to work a habit he had cultivated from his 'Observer' days when the evening 'Observer' published two editions and the staff used to adjourn for a sumptuous breakfast after the first edition. But 'The Island' was very much closer home to Anton and he rose to be Chief Sub Editor. A tireless worker, a very able and fast sub editor he was well-known for his capacity to work under pressure. Anton was a man of many fascinating parts. He was an outstanding authority on horse racing but took a keen interest in the arts as well. He used to recall that he was one of a choir which had taken part in a competition for Sri Lanka's National Anthem. When I edited the Arts pages of the 'Sunday Island' Anton wrote regularly although under a pseudonym. Anton was keenly interested in politics a proclivity which had its origins when he was sent to the old Parliament at Galle Face to edit the copy of the parliamentary reporters in the press gallery itself. This was perhaps the one and only time when a newspaper resorted to this practice and should be commended to today's daily newspaper editors. But Anton was one of the faceless crowd until one afternoon he was pitched into prominence in a confrontation with the fire-eating JVP leader Rohana Wijeweera. In the early eighties Wijeweera became fearful of state repression by the UNP Government of J. R. Jayewardene and had called a press conference at his party office on top of the Weerasinghe Saw Mills at Blomendhal Road where 'The Island' too had its offices. At the Premil Sports Club which was almost the official watering hole of 'The Island' beasts I told Anton that I had been assigned to cover Wijeweera's press conference. He too offered to come and we were crowded into the JVP's tiny office when Anton asked a question which made the sparks to fly. Anton who having studied in English could not boast of any skilled use of the Sinhala language asked the JVP chieftain who was flanked by Lionel Bopage and Upatissa Gamanayake, his staunchest comrades in arms, why only he was wearing a beret with a red star on it. Obviously Anton wanted to bring out some factor relating to a cult of personality on Wijeweera's part and Wijeweera lost his temper. In a towering rage the JVP leader accused Anton of being a capitalist stooge in the employ of Upali and demanded whether he would ask Mrs. Sirimavo Bandaranaike why she carried a hand bag. By now heads were turning towards me, Anton's companion, and I had to come to the defence of my colleague if not comrade in distress. I pointed out to Wijeweera that we all live in a capitalist society and had to work for capitalists whether Upali Wijewardene or any other. He should answer the question without going into the antecedents of his interlocutor. It was upto Lionel Bopage to restore peace and continue with the briefing. Later we heard that some comrades had enquired from Wijeweera why he had shouted at the 'comrades from the press' to which he had replied that he shouted at them because the comrades also had shouted at him. Anton Weerasinghe belonged to the last of the tribe of hard-drinking, hard-smoking captains of the classical press in its heyday and height. During his last years he lost his voice but yet communicated by writing. His death closes one of the most colourful chapters in contemporary journalism. Ajith Samaranayake |
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