Nationalisation of media
In addition to my work at the University, I did a lot of media work,
for various newspapers as well as the SLBC. In those days the media was
entirely owned by government, or else strongly supportive of it, an
inevitable situation I suppose when the opposition is identified with
socialism. I used to wonder therefore why JR continued to cling onto
Lake House, contrary to his commitment before the election to reverse
the previous government’s nationalisation.
That move one could understand, given the relentless animosity Lake
House had displayed towards Mrs. Bandaranaike’s government, but it was
foolish. I have always believed that control of the media is quite
useless, at least for the purposes of propaganda, because the vast
majority of people do not believe what government owned media outlets
say.
National
They therefore become simply instruments of pandering to those in
power and, in becoming effusive, they do not bother to be credible. That
is why governments that seek to control the media to ensure the results
they want at elections end up controlling the elections too.
Mrs. Bandaranaike’s government was not like that, and initially
indeed I gather that it tried to turn Lake House into a national rather
than a partisan institution. Mervyn de Silva for instance, Dayan
Jayatilleka’s father, was wryly critical of the government too. But soon
enough the apparatchiks got at him, and Lake House became merely a
mouthpiece for the government. However the Times Group continued
independent, albeit there were efforts to buy it up. More importantly,
though in an unseemly squabble with the owners of the Sun Group the
government sealed its presses, it opened them for the election of 1977.
I was told that Group of newspapers did a very effective job in drawing
attention to the failures of the government.
JR therefore need not have hung on to Lake House, given that the
independent press was very much on his side. Radio was totally
controlled by him, since the SLBC had always been a government monopoly
previously, and indeed continued as such until the time of President
Premadasa. He also took good care to make television a government
monopoly, nationalizing the Independent Television Network that a couple
of his nephews set up well before Rupavahini started. Thus we had the
extraordinary phenomenon of not only a Government Television Station,
but also what was bizarrely termed the Government Owned Business
Undertaking of the Independent Television Network.
Times
In a sense that was symptomatic of what JR really thought of
privatization. He realized that business in general had to be done by
the private sector, but he did not even dream of extending the principle
to basic services in general. He did start private transport, for which
we must be grateful, but even there he stuck to buses and allowed the
railway network to degenerate.
Lake House in those days would use the occasional article, but it was
the Times that actually commissioned a series of articles on literature.
I geared this in the main to the Advanced Level syllabus, but tried to
introduce other works too, in the hope that some students would be
tempted to read further.
This led to a rather amusing situation when I wrote about Gals
worthy. By then I had fallen foul of the government, after having
resigned from the University over the deprivation of Mrs Bandaranaike’s
Civic Rights, and I was told the President was informed, at a meeting of
the UNP Working Committee, that the Times, which had also been taken
over by then by Government, was providing space to a strong critic of
the government.
Ensured
JR had apparently said that I was only writing about Galsworthy, but
Almon Pieris, later to become a Provincial Minister, had said he did not
know about Galsworthy, but I was clearly a Communist. I was supposed to
be bearded too, which was quite untrue, since I only decided to
cultivate a beard six years later.
Esmond Wickremesinghe, who told me the tale with great gusto, added
that JR had assured him that I could continue to write but,
characteristically, a couple of weeks later the Editor, Rita Sebastian,
told me that the series would have to stop.
I felt sorry for her, for she was clearly under pressure. Fortunately
the SLBC was made of sterner stuff, or rather its English Service was,
staffed by wonderfully idiosyncratic people like Jayantha Wijeyeratne
and Mahesh Perera.
I have no idea whether they were told to stop me or not, but I rather
suspect the latter. However, they would have ignored any instructions
unless they were given in writing, and it is the essence of such
restrictions that they cannot be publicly proclaimed.
So I continued for some time to do a programme called ‘Literary
Quarter’ as well as coordinating ‘The Arts Scene’ for some time. This
last was useful, because it ensured I went to a range of performances
and exhibitions I might not otherwise have experienced.
I would try to get a guest or two for each programme, and I was thus
able to get to know people I admired from their work, in particular
Ajith Samaranayake, who seemed to me the best English language
journalist in the country. My connection with Trinity College indeed
began then, when I interviewed members of their Drum and Dance Troupe,
along with a youngster who won the School Shakespeare Drama Competition
Prize for the Best Actor, breaking the Thomian monopoly of the award.
Most entertainingly, I was told by a member of the Board recently
that the boy, now doing very well in America, asked after me, having
recalled that I had taught him many years ago.
Getting interviewees for the Arts programme was not always easy, so I
often fell back on regulars, to do reviews for me, Richard of course,
but also Jeanne Pinto, who was always game to talk about anything. She
and Richard also helped with ‘Literary Quarter’, by coming along and
reading extracts from the work of whoever I was discussing.
Sometimes I would have both of them, and it was always entertaining
to have Richard afterwards parodying the way Jeanne had read.
She had a wonderful husky voice, but it sometimes sounded harsh, and
he could turn it into a threatening growl, as when he imitated her
reading Oscar Wilde”
Oh take a tiger for your mate
Whose amber sides are flecked with black
And ride him on his gilded back
In triumph through the Theban gates.
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