September 5th marked his 86th birth anniversary:
Mervyn de Silva: the feared outsider
by Premil Ratnayake
When Mervyn de Silva died a few years ago, we lost one of the finest
journalists of our times, a brilliant product of Lake House, a puckish
satirist, the Art Buchwald of Sri Lanka.
He was a unique editor, unobtrusive, hardly getting out of the
editor's room, leaving the rest of the work of producing the newspaper
to others who had been assigned to do their particular jobs - he had
immense faith and confidence in his men.
Mervyn was a loner ("I don't hunt in packs" - his motto); he
preferred to drink alone and eat alone - except when he took his wife
Lakshmi and little son Dayan to dine out, which was quite often.
If Clarence Fernando's humour was loudly overt, Mervyn's was almost
mutely covert and subtle. His satirical pieces under the pseudonyms 'Daedalus'
and 'The Outsider' were classics. In The Observer he was the feared
outsider - he was almost left to languish in a set up monopolized by
Tarzie Vittachi and Denzil Peiris. To them Mervyn was the dangerous
concealed material that should not be allowed to explode. For Mervyn was
an intellectual thinking alone - even in intellectualism he was a loner.
Cold storage syndrome
The cold storage syndrome ended in 1970 when Mrs. Sirimavo
Bandaranaike was swept to power with a massive two-thirds majority.
Mervyn was appointed Editor, Daily News and Ernest Corea was sent to The
Observer. Ernest Corea took his gang of followers with him to The
Observer; Mervyn brought Clarence Fernando to the Daily News which was a
brilliant coup in newspaperism. For, 'Clarry Bua' became Mervyn's deputy
and the man who virtually ran the Daily News show.
When Mervyn took over, there was a sigh of relief everywhere in the
Daily News. Finally a man with no prejudices and no one-upmanship had
come to take over the Daily News. In addition to the editorship, Mervyn
was made a Director of Lake House. That was a singular achievement.
I remember Mervyn's first day in office as Editor, CDN. He had just
finished his first editorial on his portable. He was pacing about in the
editorial; he seemed nervous. He was biting his nails. He had titled his
first editorial CREDO, a superb essay in journalism. In it he had
categorically written that from that day on Daily News will accord top
priority to truth.
After the first edition hit the streets, Lake House Chairman Ranjit
Wijewardene telephoned the news desk. I was the night reporter.
Wijewardene who never interfered in the editorial work as far as the
content of the Daily News was concerned wanted a slight change made in
the 'Credo' editorial - from that day on 'should be substituted with
'always' - insinuating that the Daily News had always believed in the
truth and followed it. I had a rather delicate job on my hands. I had to
track down Mervyn at that late hour.
I finally managed to locate him at the Capri. Mervyn had no
reservations. He told me to do the correction, which I did. Neither
Wijewardene nor Mervyn talked about it later.
Mervyn came to office very early in the morning, driven to work by
his wife Lakshmi. In the editor's room Dennis Vandebona, Mervyn's steno
plus secretary was waiting seated at the typewriter. Mervyn lit a
cigarette and began dictating the next day's editorial. Vandebona was a
first rate typist, the best steno I had known at Lake House. Mervyn was
fast in his dictation, rattling off words common and uncommon but
Vandebona was equal in his speed.
No sooner Mervyn finished off a sentence than Dennis Vandebona had it
all on the typewriter sheet. Then the two took a break; Mervyn to attend
to some paper work or use the telephone, and Vandebona to sneak out for
a smoke. Dennis had the quaint habit of smoking cigarettes in halves -
he broke the cigarette in half and smoked. We wondered whether he did it
to catch up fast on the typing - no; neither was he being frugal, stingy
or thrifty - it was just a habit.
By noon the editorial was done and Mervyn took off to the Taprobane
for his beer. Often he was joined by the SLFP political stalwart Hema
Dabare, who hung around the hotel to work out his clandestine business
deals. Mervyn had no dealings with the dealer but only shared a drink
with him.
Hema was known among friends as Dr. Dabare and when once he got a
real doctor to stand him six straight whisky shots over a deal, Mervyn
said puckishly, "Our own doctor extracted from the real doctor his quota
of whisky." After the noon beer, Mervyn lunched somewhere in the Fort
alone and returned to office only in the night. By then the Daily News
had been put to bed.
A literary giant
Mervyn was a literary giant. He knew his art and profession so well
that no journalist would challenge him. Yet, he did not seek the company
of the hybrids. Occasionally he used to come over to me while I was
typing and whisper in my ear: "Come to the Press Club for a drink."
I had to obey him, he was my Editor but I knew that Clarry would be
mad because it was press time. At Simeon's Press Club, which was at the
Galle Face Hotel and where the present Indian High Commission is
located, we drank beer and talked - Mervyn doing most of the talking.
When I returned to the desk 'Clarry Bua,' I knew, was gritting his
teeth, but he did not throw a fit, perhaps because he knew I had gone
out with the editor. But on another occasion, he went into a rage when
Gamini Weerakoon (who later became the Editor of The Island), Ranjit
Peiris, the irrepressible bundle of mischief, a bomb of a journalist,
son of the late illustrious editor Denzil Peiris and I popped in at the
Hotel Taprobane during the crucial 'press time' for a 'binge.'
Binge it was going to be because our host was Ranjit who had just
drawn a mighty festival advance!
Ranjit was perennially broke but thrust a few bucks in his palm, he
would transform into a rich Indian prince, Ranjith Singh. That was the
rich atmosphere at the Tap while the three of us were imbibing
double-distilled arrack.
Then we were taken unawares. Mervyn walked in with his friend Nimal
Karunatilleke, former MP for Matale, the first MEP candidate to be
announced victorious at the historic '56 general election. Nimal was
also a journalist.
Mervyn was about to order drinks - we were all now seated on bar
stools - but Ranjit interrupted and drawled in his high accent (it was
not phoney, his was a trained and cultivated voice) "allow us, please
Mervyn," and then ordered a double whisky for Mervyn and arrack for
Nimal.
The whisky was expensive but Ranjit was happy to order our editor the
drink he loved.
The three of us - Ranjit, Gamma and I - were going high and perhaps
sensing this Mervyn warned: "Drink but don't get drunk." We were drunk
anyway as we trooped out of Taprobane after Mervyn left with Nimal.
The following day, there was hell to pay: furious at our malingering
'Clarry Bua' sent us curt notes calling for an explanation on our
unauthorized absence from office at peak press time. We sat down to
write down our explanations when Mervyn arrived and laughingly asked:
"Hey, where did you fellows go after the binge? Did Ranjit bust his
entire festival advance?"
Clarry was listening. And after Mervyn left, he snatched his notes
from us and shredding them to bits, cursed: "How could you run this
place when the Editor himself boozes with my reporters!" Bua was not
laughing this time around but we sniggered to ourselves quietly.
Then, there was calamity in the Daily News. Fred de Silva, a senior
deputy editor was jailed for contempt of court.
Mervyn was abroad and Clarence was acting for him. In a miscellaneous
column, Fred wrote a piece titled 'Dress Sense' which was found to be
derogatory of the Criminal Justice Commission(CJC) set up by the then
Justice Minister Felix Dias Bandaranaike. Fred de Silva was hauled
before the CJC, was found guilty of contempt and sentenced to a month's
hard labour.
Lake House provided him with everything in jail. Fred, a meticulous
man and epicurean always ate at Pagoda Hotel in the Fort. So, Pagoda
provided Fred's meals in prison. Fred smoked only Ardath cigarettes and
when George Mason, Lake House Legal Officer and leader writer of the
Daily News sent him a carton of cigarettes of another brand, Fred
promptly returned it.
He was provided with a portable and seemingly the stubborn man (he
had refused to make a full apology to the CJC) was enjoying his stay
behind bars.
Then Mervyn returned and distressed by the incarceration of his
friend, drove direct from the airport to the residence of Felix Dias
Bandaranaike (Felix was Mervyn's pal) to appeal on behalf of Fred.
Back to cold storage
Minister Bandaranaike wanted a specific and genuine expression of
contribution from Fred. Mervyn got a document prepared and rushed to
Fred in jail and after great persuasion, got Fred to sign the letter of
contribution. Fred was released. Then another calamity struck the Daily
News. Suddenly the Lake House Chairman, A. K. Premadasa, removed Mervyn
from Daily News editorship, made Fred the editor and shoved Mervyn again
to cold storage.
Mervyn used to contribute to the Daily News articles on foreign
affairs -he was an acknowledged expert on the subject. Fred de Silva
perhaps over intoxicated in his new post 'killed' them and did not
publish a single article. Gratitude in its most perverted form!
Suddenly Mervyn was sacked but within 24 hours the Times Group, which
apparently valued his journalism more than Lake House, invited him to be
their Editor-in-Chief. Mervyn did work for a while at the Times but the
Times was doddering and after a while it collapsed.
Finest articles
Mervyn bade good-bye to all newspaper institutions and started his
own monthly magazine, Lanka Guardian.
It was tough to run an independent magazine with limited resources.
The Lanka Guardian carried some of the finest articles in the history of
journalism. But commercially it could not sustain itself. Mervyn handed
it over to his son, Dayan. Mervyn was a disillusioned man and he died
leaving a big void in our field of writing and newspaperism.
(This article by the late Premil Ratnayake originally appeared in the
Daily News on January 5, 2010 in the series 'Premil Ratnayaka
Reminisces: Lake House Then and Now') |