An incident at Independence Square

They walk around, trying to capture the great expectations of 1948, a nation finally free to charter its own course

Last week I witnessed an incident at the Independence Square which is illustrative of an unmade society; a society whose norm is its normlessness; nothing is definite, everything is in a state of flux. 

I was taking a walk near the Independence Square at about 7 p.m. when it started raining heavily, compelling a dozen or so walkers to seek shelter in the Independence Square. An impressive monument, striking and dignified, dedicated to the attainment of our independence in 1948. The architectural design is credited to Tom Neville Wynne-Jones the colony’s chief architect then, assisted by several Ceylonese architects.

An open structure, a largish podium on which several fluted columns stand supporting a grand roof, tiled in the indigenous manner. The structure is of reinforced concrete, simple in design and sturdy. The idea apparently was a representation of the royal audience hall of the Kandyan kingdom. In our tropical climate, the raised dais, the high roof and the open structure allows for free air flow, providing a relief from the harsh heat. To reach the dais there are broad steps on either-side, flanked by concrete balustrades. The steps open to a roofless wide terrace from which you step on the podium with the roof cover. 

To underrate a nation with the lion as its symbol is a folly. Great Britain, one time builders of an empire on which the sun never set, adopted this powerful, brave and dignified predator as its symbol. We also have adopted the lion, lest one forgets it, the Independence Square is ringed with a row of stone lions guarding the monument – a claim, as well as an aspiration.

This area has a history, originally perhaps a marshy scrub, then a cinnamon estate and during the Second World War it is said that there was a British aerodrome here. A few hundred yards away stands another imposing building, now converted to a plush shopping arcade. Previously the building housed government departments, if I remember correctly the Home Ministry at one stage. A poorly worded plaque at the shopping arcade refers to an asylum which had been on site for a lengthy period in the British times. Considering the tragicomedy of our State sector, one may wonder whether the asylum giving way to a government department, was a mere continuation. 

The recent conversion of the ramshackle building to a plush arcade/entertainment area was a Government project during the time when Gotabaya Rajapaksa was the all-powerful czar of Urban Development. Clearly, the arcade as a plush shopping hub has failed. Its car park is empty; the corridors are deserted through the day. Recently I heard that certain parts of the wooden floor had been attacked by termites, the tenants had to vacate before the wood is treated. A pubic audit of the arcade project may give yet another reason why governments should not be in business.

The walkers sheltering under the roof of the Independence Square that evening had a long wait, it rained without let up. We waited around chatting with other walkers, some sat on the steps, the place was poorly lit. Two or three younger walkers including a female walker then decided to use the idle time by walking on the terrace steps outside the podium area, an area yet protected by the extension of the high roof. 

This is when the incident happened. I saw a security guard, who I had not noticed earlier, going up to the young female walker and saying something. Visibly taken aback she remonstrated strongly. Realising she was facing an awkward situation we went up to her. Apparently the security guard had told her that she cannot walk around the podium. When asked for a reason, he had said that he was so instructed. The walker had then asked him why this rule is not publicly displayed to which he replied almost didactically “It is in the file”.

At this point another, a more mature looking security guard appeared, carrying a food parcel in one hand, perhaps his dinner. He was more conciliatory, he had a meal to partake. “We have to do, what our bosses tell us to do”, there was such pathos in his words.

One of the walkers asked him for the Ministry that oversaw the site, apparently the Home Ministry. Someone asked which officer in this Ministry banned the walking, he mumbled something like “Upali Mahathaya”.

A recent YouTube had a female, perhaps a researcher, criticising job advertisements by the Open University where apparently a researcher was offered a monthly salary of Rs. 30,000, while a security guard would get Rs. 50,000. Her snooty attitude is at variance with global realities, a person’s pay is not based on the University Degree he carries around but the actual contribution he makes. In developed countries today, there are many blue collar workers taking home much larger salaries than office workers. Every government department in Sri Lanka is testimony to the paralysis that follows our degree holders. There is nothing to research, the truth is staring at you!

However, this is not to justify our security guards, a misnomer through and through. The designation ‘guard’ on such an ineffectual and shabby personality is completely misleading. To get hold of an elderly man, put a uniform on him and then to call him a security guard seems an affront to human dignity. The only qualification the man has may be the fact that he has a vote. After 70 long years of independence, if human resource quality is this reduced, failure surely is too weak a word. 

The last volume of Nobel Prize winning author V.S. Naipaul’s insightful trilogy on India of 1960-70 deals with the latter decade, the 1970s; India in a flurry – the call-centres, the out-sourcing, jobs in the Middle-East were bringing money to the country; the Indian chaos, the confusion and the din – ‘A Thousand Mutinies Now’. Sri Lanka is mutinous too, not a mutiny suggestive of a new beginning, only a despondent rebellion against a nonsense country, going from a hilarity of a colonial mimicry to a confounded tragedy of native clumsiness. What is the rule, who sets the rule, and most importantly, why this rule? Is it bureaucrat “Upali Mahathaya’s” sense of decorum, which can be replaced overnight by his successor “Sunil Mahathaya”, with a different sense of decorum altogether? 

In the United States, the inauguration ceremony of the elected President is traditionally held at the US Capitol Building in Washington, District of Columbia. This building has housed the US Congress since 1800.

Our Independence Square for all its magnificence, has no such abiding tradition. It has been the location for several Independence Day celebrations, competing with the Galle Face Green, a more regular venue. To my recollection, one President has taken his oath at the location. (Talking of our tradition of Presidency, it is a comical fact that almost every President in recent times has vowed to do away with the office he was contesting for, when elected. But, like everything else in this country, failed to deliver on the promise). Several funerals have been held at the Independence Square, artists, film producers, religious figures and politicians.

On a visit subsequent to the incident, I noticed that “Upali Mahathaya” had been busy. There are now notices written on hardboards around the Independence Square warning the visitor that this is a hallowed place and the visitor must conduct himself decorously. Even the Vatican has no such reminders, if a place has to claim sanctity, it probably isn’t. 

Obviously, there are no rules or traditions, the whims and the fancies of whoever has authority will prevail. 

On any given day, you will see huge tourist coaches parked nearby, unloading the camera clicking visitors, a desperate nation’s bread and butter. They walk around, trying to capture the great expectations of 1948, a nation finally free to charter its own course. 

There is something to be said for “Upali Mahathaya’s” enforced sombreness!