19 February, 2025

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‘An Epitaph Of A Traitor’ – Swan Song Of An Incumbent President

By Vishwamithra

I have presided over some of the most destructive occurrences in my country. True, I have managed some successful events, but they pale in significance and resoluteness of substance in comparison to what I have left behind in the aftermath of all those defining episodes of a life of a nation. Born with proverbial silver spoon in my mouth, in every way, shape or fashion, I have generated enmity, hatred and utter dislike with my fellow countrymen. I may be able to succeed to explain how I have achieved this matchless feat; but I simply can’t explain why. Therein remains the real tragic stigma in my life.

Wickremesinghe

I do not possess any extraordinary skills. I, even though passed out as an advocate from Colombo Law College and tried many times as a trial lawyer, I’m not a good public speaker. I grew up in the midst of some great tongues of the Hulftsdorp Bar. But now I feel like a tortured tongue that is struggling to find expression ambushed by thirty two teeth. Having now arrived at the forlorn state of twilight of my life, I cannot allow this lamentable tale to dictate the next few chapters of my book of life. I have read extensively chapters and verses written on great men and women. However, why and how such reading and study has not influenced me to adopt a different way of transacting life’s enormous deal, how and why I had let those historic sketches and impressions pass me by, I don’t know. Yet I have decided to play my last hand. Jawaharlal Nehru, my late father’s close associate, once said that The hand you are dealt is determinism; the way you play it is free will’. I had been dealt an extremely good hand. I had all the right cards; but in a most cruel and strange way, I had managed to let all those be devoured by men and women whose cards were hardly worthy of mention.

That was my preamble. Now I will pen my thoughts and conclusions for each of the arenas in which I have fumbled time after time.

Tormented by ironic turn of life’s inscrutable ways, after assuming my first parliamentary victory in 1977, through very optimistic about being sworn in as a Minister in Uncle JR’s Cabinet, I felt undeniably depressed when I was called to be sworn in only a Junior Minister. There were other first timers like Gamini Dissanayake and Lalith Athulathmudali who were bestowed with iconic portfolios but why I was left out indicated a cold yet strategic ploy by Uncle JR. I was not the blue-eyed boy of the new Prime Minister/President. JR wanted quick results and Uncle did not believe that I could deliver.

Nevertheless, after a few months Uncle gave me the Ministry of Youth Affairs and for a change, I was hopeful of placing my close friends in high places, at least within the Ministry. My association with the Ministry of Youth Affairs was like a joyous journey with my fellow travelers. Although what I could achieve with the affairs of the nation’s youth was hardly anything to write home about, I still managed to leave it without causing any earth-shattering events.

When I was given in charge of the country’s one of the most pivotal Ministries, that of Education, I got bogged down in clashes with school principals. In fact, when the clash I engineered with the principal of one of the leading schools in Colombo, Uncle confronted me in the Cabinet room itself. But I held my grounds and Uncle allowed me to have my way.

But something told me to get on with R Premadasa and I did. In the wake of the departure of Gamini and Lalith from the United National Party (UNP), I came to occupy a status of prominence in the government run by Premadasa. As a matter of fact, Premadasa’s and my governing philosophy were strangely akin to each other. Both of us did not trust the majority thinking. Both of us had some inexplicable reason to hate the Colombo-elites hovering around the UNP. Although I attended Royal College, although most of my close friends were old Royalists, the Colombo cocktail circuit did not have any special liking or dislike for me. As a result, my political journey meandered through paths and routes where loneliness and self-pity were more dominant than joyous company intimate camaraderie.

After the three assassinations of my predecessors, namely R Premadasa, Lalith Athulathmudali and Gamini Dissanayake, and upon my ascension to the Premiership of the country, I knew that my desired destination, Presidency, would be much quicker than even I calculated at the time! This is the time I began my introspective journey and that was not a good one. Looking into the nerve wracking depths of Batalanda gives me shivers; my whole body begins trembling beyond any measure and, then again, I knew I could control it so far as my friend CBK was in power. Even though the Batalanda Report was made public, I managed to get some crucial parts redacted. Hence, even up to date, no person could bring me before the arbiters of law for any provable felonies.

But there is one heartbreaking deed that I have executed, willy nilly. That is the slow but sure decimation of my UNP. I could not win a single election, be it Local, Provincial, Parliamentary or Presidential. Decomposing in the Opposition benches was no cushy way to retire into a gentler life.

But the country in general and political storms in particular were gushing on and blanketing the ever expanding political landscape. The effusive aftermath of these political tempests left their own residue; their stench was more intolerable than the very strength and force of the tempests themselves. The Rajapaksas were on the rise; their ill-gotten money was spread around the country and the ever-susceptible voters became willing victims of the system. The system that Uncle created  became a adroit tool in the hands of the avaricious Rajapaksas. And they knew even better than Premadasa how to use it and abuse it. The whole land became a cesspool of corruption, incompetence and a tangled web of serfs of one single family, the Rajapaksas.

But I needed to survive. In that survival game, I could not care who became victims or whose lives I had to sacrifice at the altar of power. I knew I had to play a waiting game and Uncle had taught me the grammar and nuances of such waiting. In the UNP, there was no one above me. I knew, as Uncle used to say, how to wait until the pendulum started swinging the other way. Election of Gotabaya was the best thing happened in my life. The sequence of events that followed Gota’s assumption of the high seat became uncontrollable; in addition to his incompetence and arrogance, Gota committed one of the most despicable deeds one brother could commit against his own kin. He started listening to his half-baked pundits and completely lost his way in politics.

Once a military leader, Gotabaya, however, lost his cool and stoicism. He ran away. That was the day I was eagerly waiting for. A parliament that did not know what to do in a crisis, my meager mite was enough to convert the ardent Pohottuwa gundas from men and women in search of their own underwear to strong believers in Ranil Wickremesinghe. But after assuming all executive powers of the office of President, once again, I committed the most unforgivable crime. Instead of summoning the hundreds and thousands of our own youth to a round table conference, I unleashed the forces of water cannons and tear gas against our own men and women. I thereby alienated the most decisive bloc of voters from the government machinery I was operating. The IMF came to my temporary rescue but its effects are not lasting. I needed another year at least, but the Supreme Court and the rising public outcry  are forces that I cannot match in a short time.

So here I am: waiting for the dreaded Presidential Elections. I still have some cards to play and dare not expose them for fear of AKD and NPP who are waiting to read them and trump me totally out of whack.  One day, after everything settles down to dust and ashes, one day, one might write this epitaph, neither as a tribute nor as a condemnation, but as matters of facts and an unprejudiced rendition to fellow countryman.

*The writer can be contacted at vishwamithra1984@gmail.com   

Latest comments

  • 14
    5

    The way Vishwamithra visualises Ranil.
    Would Vishwamithra have done better as a storyteller …?

  • 9
    2

    Author might be thinking this is as his ninth Swan Song. He is not a cat; he is a fox. He has unlimited songs to be sung in the elections to be coming.

  • 12
    5

    Thank you
    You only wrote the summery of this chap but there are enough substances to write volumes of books on this theme.

    • 12
      4

      “I could not win a single election, be it Local, Provincial, Parliamentary or Presidential. “
      2001 Parliamentary election?
      2002 LG elections?
      You disappoint me, Vishwa.

      • 7
        5

        OC, a ranil victory or UNP’s last grasp under a curse of a leader ?

        • 10
          7

          Deepthi,
          The usual way to win elections is to promise the sun and the moon, or promise to save the country from Muslims/Tamils/ Evangelicals/India/China………
          You can’t blame him for doing none of that.

          • 10
            4

            Come on OC be open to all truths !

            The others are stupid children promising the sun and the moon to their stupid followers compared to the devious cunning of this filth from 5th lane-he promises far more subtle things- a Developed country by 2040 ( when old Royalist Ruwan Wijewardena would be President !) , good governance, solving economic problems, fooling the IMF, playing India against China , Indian Ocean future, UN Secretary General , Davos, tea at Buckingham ( Maithri will not miss that !)!

            Ask all the ex UNP guys ( they are all over the country , starting from SB, GL,Amunugama, Athukrala etc etc) They will puke when you mention the name

            A man from hell, the best product of Esmund W !

  • 11
    2

    The author sounds about as truthful as a CID officer extracting a confession from a suspect.
    The only thing missing is a signature.

    • 5
      2

      Dear Vishwa
      It sounds and feels like an epitaph for a man who is alive and kicking for all intents and purposes
      Will he rise from the ashes like the Phoenix .Only the forth coming elections will be the witness and poll bearer
      Ratnam Nadarajah

  • 17
    3

    Really, I cannot be expected to have all my 32 teeth intact at my age, just a few years younger than Biden who was dragged out of the Presidential race in the US. The Royal entrance exam was done away with so that Anura B. and I could enter without an open competition. As for my “extensive” library which was burnt, I don’t think I read any books there. They were purely ornamental. Also, I studied law at the University not at the Law College. So, I am a bit better qualified, I think. About Batalanda, it still stinks in my nose. I have to live with it. I am slightly less communal than other Sinhalayas. I did try to solve the problem in 2000 but the Soora Rajini scuttled it. Now, I can claim that I have solved the economic crisis single handedly without recovering the stolen wealth of the Rajapakses or getting the fellow in Singapore back so that we can recover the money involved in the Central Bank scam. But, remember, there are no petrol pump queues, enough cooking gas, etc. etc. All the trouble makers are docile now because they have been tear-gassed sufficiently. So, under me, the future will be bright. Do not forget to vote for me.

  • 6
    12

    What ridicule only Ranil? Yes, he has his easy cut and dried financial method that will merge us with India, land bridge and all. He has, of course, no regard for Motherland as a sovereign nation.

    What is more ridiculous is the Rajapaksa visions of prosperity via ancient Chinese Silk Route, replete with illusory painting of Chinese junk full of abstract clouds, hues and colors……my God, they have gone mad again! Then is their Polish girl telling us that we can be the next big Dubai that built up its Burj Kalifa with the oil-rich wealth of its Middle-Eastern region. No, we cannot be used in such high risk fashion by Russians, Europeans-aligned-with-Russia, and Chinese oligarchs as a temporary parking-spot for their billions.

    • 4
      5

      Why* ridicule only Ranil?

  • 19
    4

    It would’ve been better for Lanka, if Ranil was never born. …….. Think about it.


    An epitaph wouldn’t have been necessary. …….. Native would’ve been spared the trouble.

    • 4
      1

      nimal fernando

      “It would’ve been better for Lanka, if Ranil was never born. …….. Think about it.”

      I am thinking.
      What about Vijaya, Dutta Gamini, Elalara, Chola, Pandya, Mutasiva, Vattagamani Abhaya, … Maha Naga … Maha Naga, …. Nissanka Malla, …. Rajasinha I, Rajasinghe II, Portuguese, Dutch, Brits, ….. Anagarika, D S Senanayake, …. SWRD, Siri Mao, …. Cyril Mathew, Rajapaksas, ….. ….. Thiruvengadam Vellupillai Prabaharan, Douglas, Gamanpilla, Champika, Sarath De Silva, Weerawansa, …. Sarath Weerasekera, Shavendra, ………

  • 2
    1

    I think “Confession” should have been made a few days later. The writer mentions about “Batalanda”.

    This “Batalanda” was a Torture House maintained by Ranil W (as per the Presidential Commission report)of which ASP Douglas Peiris was appointed to conduct all the functions- (detention/torture and ultimate “exterminations” were to be undertaken) allocated to it.

    There was a court case ( abduction/torture and extra-judicial killings conducted at this Batalanda Torture House)) against ASP Douglas Peiris and 4 others, all of whom were handed down a “5-year” jail term with hard labor. An appeal was made but dismissed by the High Court which ordered the immediate arrest of the convicted 4 officers and to commence the jail term.

    Now the Police say this convicted criminal-Douglas Peiris, is “MISSING” and there is no trace of him in the country. According to reports, Douglas Peris has left the country using a forged passport with a different name. Any views on this Mr. Ranil W as an addendum to the above confession?

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