By Vijitha Yapa

‘Where have all the burghers gone?’ was a familiar question in the 1960s among schoolboys. The response, ‘they’re now in kangaroo land,’ was also popular. The exodus of the English-speaking burghers was due to S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike becoming the Prime Minister of Ceylon in 1956 and insisting that Sinhala should be the mother tongue of the island’s inhabitants.

The burghers – descendants primarily of the British, Dutch, Portuguese and other origins – found themselves stranded with English-language education cut off, much like an umbilical cord severing a newborn from its mother at birth.

In Jam Fruit Tree, published by Penguin India, Carl Muller provides a vivid description of who the burghers were, their frolics and antics – especially on the beaches of Wellawatte and Bambalapitiya. His portrayal captured this in an illustrious fashion.

Muller’s assertion that the burghers were mainly inhabitants of ‘Bambalawatte’ rings true, according to the writings of the time. They lived day by day with savings for the future being a foreign factor.

They enjoyed life and lived it to the fullest, and their love affairs including the scandalous ones went from mouth to mouth, becoming the talk of the town among the upper and middle classes.

However, the hoi polloi saw nothing sensational in the lifestyle of these burghers.

When asked why her father campaigned for and imposed the Sinhala Only Act, his elder daughter Sunethra candidly said in an interview that it was a regrettable decision made for political expediency.

What is particularly sad is that if that action was regretted, then a continuation of the policy by the former premier’s wife after she became prime minister in 1960 was also a major mistake.

Sri Lanka had a reputation for producing men of outstanding calibre who played prominent roles in world affairs, and they suddenly found the country and future generations castrated by a flawed policy – without any consideration of the impact of their decisions on the nation’s future.

Even today, efforts to attract multitudes of tourists face a major hurdle due to such short-sighted decisions with English proficiency among the hoi polloi at a deplorable level.

In his book The Changing Face of Colombo, R. L. Brohier says it was the westerners who made Colombo the capital and that it’s “a city forced on the people of Ceylon in spite of themselves.”

An interesting insight into the origins of Marine Drive is given life in Asiff Hussein’s book The Great Days of Bambalawatte. He says that Governor Edward Barnes conceived the idea after he built a palatial residence at the tip of Mount Lavinia. Barnes envisioned a Marine Drive con­necting his palace to the Colombo Fort, a plan that was rejected by the powers in Whitehall.

Hussein describes the happenings in and around Galle Road, mainly from the Colombo Fort down to the beaches in the south, which has attracted many. He points out that although it is now known as Galle Road, the thoroughfare was once referred to as Kollupitiya Road. Grand bungalows and abodes adorned the grounds of these areas.

It allowed people, especially those of British ancestry, to lavishly enjoy the beauty and hospitality of the Ceylonese. Their lifestyle became the envy of those who weren’t able to serve as civil servants in the administration. Many Brits sweated away in the hills, clearing jungles to cultivate coffee and later tea.

It was a time when the innocent elephants in Hantana were shot by marksmen who were more concerned about the trophies they would take home than the destruction of the jungles. Today, no elephants remain in Hantana; and those who made their way to the southern and northeastern parts of the island are exacting their revenge on local farmers and planters.

Hussein makes a concerted effort to tell us who lived where in Colombo and notes that sometimes, entire streets were named after prominent individuals whose residences were in the area. The institutions and personalities he spotlights are prima­rily burghers and individuals from minority communities, such as Muslims and Tamils.

Earlier, the stretches from the Colombo Fort to down south were lined with cinnamon trees, and westerners and Arab traders were attracted to purchase pure Ceylon cinnamon, which was known for its unique flavour.

The Savoy Cinema in Wellawatte was a great attraction for the youth of the area. Hussein describes how youngsters would get on stage and virtually create a riot when Bill Haley’s Rock Around the Clock was screened, causing the police to be called in to quell the enthusiastic crowd.

It is a pity that many of the photos featured in the book are of low quality. More attention to detail could have resulted in the inclusion of better quality images, particularly those owned by individuals who once lived in these areas. And a glaring shortcoming is a poor quality photograph of Spa Ceylon in Bambalapitiya, which is out of focus.