The problems of Sri Lanka cannot be laid entirely at the feet of the British. Alot has to do with the decisions made by their leaders since independence. Here's an account by LKY, who witnessed the transition from an Asian economic powerhourse to the troubled spot it is today:
“ My first visit to Sri Lanka was in April 1956 on my way to London. I stayed at the Galle Face Hotel, their premier British-era hotel by the sea. I walked around the city of Colombo, impressed by the public buildings…. undamaged by the war, because Mountbatten had based his Southeast Asia Command in Kandy. Ceylon had more resources and better infrastructure than Singapore.”
“That same year, Solomon West Ridgeway Dias Bandaranaike won the election as leader of the new Sri Lanka Freedom Party and became prime minister. He had promised to make Sinhalese the national language and Buddhism the national religion. He was a brown “pukka sahib”, English-educated and born a Christian; he had decided on nativism and converted to Buddhism, and had become a champion of the Sinhalese language. It was the start of the unravelling of Ceylon.”
A dapper little man, well-dressed and articulate, Bandaranaiake was elated at having obtained an election mandate from the Sinhalese majority to make Ceylon a more nativist society. It was a reaction against the “Brown Sahib” society – the political elite who on inheriting power had modelled themselves on the British, including their lifestyle. Sir John Kotelawala, the prime minister whom Bandaranaike succeeded, went horse riding every morning. Bandarnaike did not seem troubled that the Jaffna Tamils and other minorities would be at a disadvantage now that Sinhalese was the national language, or by the unease of Hindu Tamils, the Muslim Moors and the Christian Burghers at the elevated status of Buddhism as the national religion. He had been president of the Oxford Union and he spoke as if he was still in the Oxford Union debating society. I was not surprised when, three years later, he was assassinated by a Buddhist monk. I thought it ironic that a Buddhist monk, dissatisfied with the country’s slow rate of progress in making Buddhism the national religion, should have done it.”
“In the election that followed, his widow, Srimavo Bandaranaike, became prime minister on the sympathy vote…….. Her nephew, Felix Bandaranaike, was her e’minence grise on international affairs. Bright, but not profound, he claimed good fortune of geography and history had blessed Ceylon with peace and security so that only 2.5 per cent of its budget was spent on defence. I wonder what he have said in the late 1980s when more than half its budget went into arms and the defence forces to crush the Jaffna Tamil rebellion.” “Ceylon was Britain’s model Commonwealth country. After the war,……when Ceylon gained independence in 1948, it was the classic model of gradual evolution to independence.”
“Alas, it did not work out. During my visits over the years, I watched a promising country go to waste. One-man-one-vote did not solve a basic problem. The majority of some eight million Sinhalese could always outvote the two million Jaffna Tamils who had been disadvantaged by the switch from English to Sinhalese as the official language. From having no official religion, the Sinhalese made Buddhism their national religion. As Hindus, the Tamils felt dispossessed.”
“In October 1966, on my way back from a prime minister’s conference in London, I visited Colombo to meet Prime Minister Dudley Senanayake. He was a gentle if resigned and fatalistic man…… He sent me by train to Nuwara Eliya, their once beautiful hill station. It was a most instructive lesson on what happened after independence….. At dinner, a wise and sad looking elderly Sinhalese explained that what had happened was inevitable with popular elections. The Sinhalese wanted to be the dominant race; they wanted to take over from the British as managers in the tea and coconut plantations, and from the Tamils who were the senior civil servants. They had to go through the tragedy of making Sinhalese the official language for which they had paid dearly, translating everything from English to Sinhalese and Tamil, a slow and unwieldy process. The universities taught in the three languages: Sinhalese to the majority, Tamil to the Jaffna Tamils, and English to the Burghers. At the University in Kandy I had asked the vice-chancellor how three different engineers educated in three languages collaborated in building one bridge. He was a Burgher, and wore a Cambridge university tie so that I would recognise he had a proper PhD. He replied, “That, sir, is a political question for the ministers to answer.” I asked about the books. He replied that basic textbooks were translated from English into Sinhalese and Tamil, always three to four editions late by the time they were printed.”
“The tea plantations were in a deplorable condition…. Without strict discipline the tea pluckers were picking not only young shoots but also full-grown leaves which would not brew good tea…...” “I did not visit Ceylon for many years, not until I had met their newly elected prime minister, Junius Richard Jayewardene, in 1978 at a CHOGRM conference in Sydney. In 1972 Prime Minister Mrs Bandaranaike had already changed the country’s name, Ceylon, to Sri Lanka, and made it a republic. The changes did not improve the fortunes of the country. Its tea is sold as “Ceylon” tea.”
“Like Solomon Bandaranaike, Jayewardene was born a Christian, converted to Buddhism and embraced nativism to identify himself with the people. In his 70-odd years, he had been through the ups and downs of politics, more downs than ups, and became philosophical in his acceptance of lowered targets…. After meeting me in Sydney, he came to Singapore, he said, to involve us in its development. I was impressed… and was persuaded to visit Sri Lanka in April 1978. He said that he would offer autonomy to the Tamils of Jaffna. I did not realise that he could not give way on the supremacy of the Sinhalese over the Tamils, which was to lead to civil war in 1983 and destroy any hope of a prosperous Sri Lanka for Many years, if not generations.”
“ The greatest mistake Jayewardene made was over the distribution of reclaimed land in the dry zone. With foreign aid, he revived an ancient irrigation scheme based on “tanks” (reservoirs) which could store water brought from the wet side of the mountains. Unfortunately, he gave the reclaimed land to the Sinhalese, not the Tamils who had historically been the farmers of this dry zone. Dispossessed and squeezed, they launched the Tamil Tigers…..The war that followed caused 50,000 deaths and even more casualties…..After more than 15 years, it shows no sign of abating.”
“The fighting goes on. It is sad that the country whose ancient name Serendip has given the English language the word “serendipity” is now the epitome of conflict, pain, sorrow and hopelessness.”