Man, it’s been said, is a political animal. What might that mean? I do not know. It could mean that man is conscious of the things that affect his way of living and seeks those that make life comfortable in some way. That of course would be true of other animal species as well.

How do they seek to get there? In a society that has developed around systems of shared values, the processes in place for resolving conflicting views have proved adequate for the purpose. But, as the demands on them expand and become multi-faceted, the processes of social organization tend to become more complex. It becomes more difficult, for example, to make decisions that affect the well-being of a community through a process of consultation in which each voice is weighed on the same scale: the popular notion of such a process is often expressed in Abraham Lincoln’s con: "government of the people, by the people, for the people".

Taking that route we arrive at elections and electoral politics. As has been proved to us over and over again, representative government cannot be ensured via elections. Elections are ‘fought’ and the instruments or weapons employed, apart from physical violence, include manifestoes or promises addressed towards special interest groups. As the late H L de Silva explained to me some fifteen years ago, at his office in New York, such manifestoes are not justiciable. They are matters that must be determined by ‘politics’: the rule of law via the formal institutions that have been set up to enforce the ‘rule’ in that phrase is rendered irrelevant ab initio. Such is the outcome of the collapse of social determinants based on a common view of life.

The electoral process employed is itself invariably flawed in several ways – ways that do not require re-telling. As it was so in Athens, the supposed originator of the idea, we have anything but ‘democracy’ in the USA , - prime proponent and violator of that notion today.

Such is the background to the ways in which ‘mandarins’ and other public servants are influenced by or seek to influence politics: they were by definition ‘the obedient servants’ of the people rather than of the politicians who captured control over the instruments of administering the state. Hence the notion of an ‘apolitical public service’. Was that idea ever realized in practice, what variations were played on that theme?

That is a large question which demands such examination as cannot be embarked on here. Suffice it that all public servants are voters and as such may express their preference for the agenda of this party or that. However passionately they may hold their views, it is assumed that their influence on politics is limited to that exercise.

But politics are governed by politicians who are supposed to govern us in the interests of society as a whole but often do so in ways they have no mandate for. Public servants necessarily interact with them in a new ‘master-servant’ relationship. Most are content to seek favours from them on a ‘quid pro quo’ basis; that, at the higher decision-making levels could be dangerous for the polity at large.

Before politics and politicians took that nose-dive, public servants who occupied the higher echelons, the ‘mandarins’, performed an advisory, even a policy-making, role.

Not all of them respected that mandate either, as a few examples will show; I shall return to that. For now let us glance at mandarins who chose to enter politics as politicians.

In the 19th C and well into the 20th it may be assumed that the bureaucracy by and large participated in the colonial enterprise; those who jibbed at it received short shrift.

Did the institution of ‘representative government’ change the situation? If it did, why would some mandarins choose to seek political office? Not many did. The rest did not seek political office, why? Perhaps they took the remote view of themselves as being providers of advice or adopted the even the more remote stance of ‘observer’. The problem there is that it is not possible to be an ‘observer’ without being, at a close remove, a ‘participant’. For most, however, it was sufficient that they ‘got close to’ a politician – that was the route to influencing policy as well as agendas of a more personal kind. Their ‘strength’ was naturally determined by that of the politician in question.

What appears to be a common factor among the few mandarins who did take to electoral politics, in the post 1948 phase, is that for one reason or another they all felt it necessary to switch sides, try out another hat. It would be facetious to suggest that such was a measure of how a-political they were. They were all of the ruling bourgeoisie.

In the previous phase of ‘representative’ government, H R Freeman entered the State Council, in the hope of contributing more substantially to the welfare of the villagers in the North Central dry zone. (His record should be examined and documented by our historians and other social scientists).

His record, as that of other mandarins, as well as that of many other public servants, bespeaks also to the fact that they could be much closer to the people than the politicians were. Indeed, up to quite recent times, (probably, on the outside,  up to 1981), administrators did not have to work via or despite politicians; whatever ‘mediation’ occurred with the people (whose servants they all were), worked the other way.

Various reasons were adduced for a mandarin taking to politics. C Suntheralingam attributed it to the monotony of ‘signing gun licenses and dog licenses’ and he was not interested in ‘fat girls with fatter dowries’. I do not know why C Sittampalam made the transition.  

Walwin A de Silva had sought perhaps to remedy mistreatment visited on him on account of the politics of his younger brother, Colvin. He won a by-election defeating the candidate of the UNP but lost at the following general election in 1952. That event also underlined both the fact that Walwin was among the few who took to politics with no hankering for power and also the tendency of ‘independent’ candidates to merge themselves into ‘party politics’. Political parties were a banding together of special interest groups with the object of capturing state power.

 The history of ‘independents’ needs to be examined by students of politics; suffice it for now to mention the careers of such individuals as T B Subasinghe, W Dahanayake, I M R A Iriyagolla, and R E Jayatilleke.

Walwin himself moved to a business career, was long time chairman of Ceylon & Foreign Trades founded by fellow mandarin P. Saravanamuttu, served briefly as chairman of the DFCC and as Vice Chancellor of the University of Colombo.

A common characteristic of mandarins who entered politics was the ease with which they switched sides. Conscience, which had ruled Walwin, seems to have been fashioned for most of them by a thirst for power. What is more intriguing is that the picture of themselves as ‘turn-coats’ probably did not enter their minds. Thus we have C P de Silva, Ronnie de Mel, and Sarath Amunugama, whose histories of jumping the fence are well known. Even Nissanka Wijeratne had been in his days as a public servant a close associate of Mrs. Bandaranaike.

In moving from mandarin to politician CP evidently sought to give himself more room to pursue his interest in land development. In his case, as with some others, the decision had the elements of a belief that he could ‘do more’ as a politician than as a public servant. His movements across parties reflected that view.

Well, his record in land development as a public servant may not have satisfied such scrutiny of nuts and bolts as Godfrey Gunatilleke had evidently subjected construction work to, but, with the backing of  D S and Dudley Senanayake he did make a considerable impact on resettling the northern dry zone. It may also be borne in mind that developing land to resettle people in areas that had lain under forest for centuries was no easy matter and control over field operations was difficult. There was, for instance, an LDO based in Mankulam who recycled money meant for land clearing, construction and pay through money-lenders in Jaffna ; the interest on short term loans was quite satisfactory, thank you. His informer in the audit branch at head office couldn’t save him from discovery and dismissal.

As Minister, C P was associated with the construction of a major reservoir for the development of the southern dry zone. I believe he was also Minister of Lands when the regulation prohibiting the opening up of new land for tea above the 5000’ contour was violated by the State Plantations Corporation.

His broader political positions, as, say, on the Paddy Lands Bill, argued for the UNP being his natural habitat. Nevertheless his decision to cross over in 1964 was baffling: whatever inducements he and his flock had been offered, moving up to a higher position in government than he already occupied was not one.

Ronnie de Mel had the task of presiding over the ‘liberalisation of the economy’(‘let the robber barons come’) that commenced with the budget in 1977. Besides a 100% devaluation, it involved a complete overhaul of the tariff system with a specific revenue outcome, Rs. 6 billion, in mind. A small team, principally Gaya Cumaratunge and myself, worked that out with an IMF expert in more or less silent attendance over twelve 10/07 weeks. The IMF was not happy with the result and their admonition, delivered at the last minute, was addressed to J R, Prime Minister at the time, as Ronnie was known to have backed us.

As Minister of Finance & Planning Ronnie had responsibility for negotiating the terms on which foreign capital investment would come in. That was not always professionally done because the interests of other Ministers had ‘to be looked after’ too. But within a Cabinet in which others (Premadasa, Athulathmudali, Dissanayake, Mohamed) had more political clout than he did, he contrived to control the flow of cash towards their pet projects in a rational manner.

Nissanka, appropriately, moved into Education, a subject area in which he had served earlier as Director of Cultural Affairs. The ‘reforms’ associated with the UGC occurred directly under JR. Nissanka’s interests tended to be more

focused on his responsibilities as Diyavadana Nilame.

Sarath’s attitudes to ‘power’ were clear from his campus days, and they manifested themselves throughout his career as a public servant. I have since had occasion to critique his positions on matters of public policy.  

There were others who took to politics outside the electoral system. Chief among them was Douglas Liyanage who headed the attempt at regime-change by force. That procedure towards establishing puppet regimes has been made routine by the U S A but we experienced it long ago in the ‘coronation’ of the child, Don Juan Dharmapala; the coup d’etat attempted in 1962 had a similar objective and was informed by the dark designs of the Vatican corporation that styles itself the ‘Roman Catholic Church’.

Liyanage who returned to the public service in 1977 was of a fascist bent of mind, as his rumoured role, if true, in the infamous ‘referendum’ would confirm, but in day to day administration I found him to be efficient indeed; he did not believe in wasting time on apportioning blame and directed the institutions under him to focus on their responsibilities. His colleague and comrade in arms, V J H (Harry) Gunasekera, was of a different mould, inclined to be arrogant and consequently more than a bit stupid.

I should note that public servants who were not of the CCS have distinguished themselves in politics. Chief among them were M D Banda, (one of the eight survivors in the rout suffered by the UNP in 1956), and George Abeygoonesekara (whose nephew, Donald Abeysinghe, would undoubtedly  have outshone many of those of his vintage who gained admission to the CCS). Both represented Hanguranketha.

Banda served last as Minister of Agriculture & Food. Known as ‘a Dudley man’, J R and he were at logger heads much of the time. With a portfolio (‘State’) of indeterminate provenance, JR’s attempts to expand his span of control foundered in the face of Banda’s resistance.

On one occasion though, JR triumphed by way of sleight of hand: Banda left the country for some conference and before his Parliamentary Secretary, P C Imbulane, who had gone to see him off could get back from Katunayake, JR managed to rush through a Cabinet paper by which the CWE was transferred to his ministry.

George served with distinction as Chairman of COPE.

U B Wijekoon followed them and did very well both as District Minister for Jaffna and as minister of Public Administration.

 It may be pertinent that they had all served as Divisional Revenue Officers at a time when that office carried with it the authority associated with a Government Agent. For the ‘Kandyan DROs’ (as they all were), that office carried with it an anterior dignity, that of the Rate Mahatmaya.