3 August 2024 12:10 am Views - 616
In remembrance of the late Member of Parliament, Hon. Jinadasa Weerasinghe, on his 37th death anniversary; an appreciation penned by his beloved granddaughter.
Today, I write this article with profound sorrow, not just as the granddaughter of a leader who genuinely prioritized the well-being of his people over material wealth, but also as a Sri Lankan citizen deeply pained by the void left by such remarkable political figures. For my grandfather, politics was a way of life and a means of serving the common people, and his legacy deserves more than to be a mere name in history, tragically cut short by the senseless violence that once engulfed our island in bloodshed. I write this because a personality as remarkable as my grandfather’s should not fade into obscurity. Although I long for the chance to have known him personally, I am immensely proud of his unwavering dedication to public service. My grandfather served not only the people of the South as their leader but also the entire nation of Sri Lanka as an influential policymaker in Parliament. His exemplary character and commitment to his political career left an indelible mark on the hearts of many.
On the 31st of July 1987, Hon. Jinadasa Weerasinghe, the United National Party MP for Tangalle, was brutally assassinated by armed anti-regime terrorists. Revered for his bravery and righteousness, Weerasinghe’s murder was a cowardly attempt to protest the government, which had signed the controversial 1987 Indo-Sri Lankan Peace Accord just days earlier, on July 26th. This accord sparked a series of violent incidents across the island, led by agitated followers of the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP), who resorted to violence to express their dissent.
Concerned about the destruction in the south, MP Weerasinghe, a leader who always sprang to his feet when his people were in danger, left Colombo to ensure his constituency was safe. Despite advice from the Premier to fly to the South due to the severity of the situation, his humility led him to drive his Mercedes Benz along the dusty Colombo-Rathnapura-Embilipitiya Road. At that time, politicians did not travel with armed guards, nor did they surround themselves with henchmen. They were true representatives of the public, dedicated to serving their people directly.
Intent on ensuring his constituency’s safety, MP Weerasinghe did not notice the terrorists by the roadside or the ditches they had dug near the Barawakumbuka-Welangahawela bridge. When a few from the gang called out ‘Apey Manthrithuma,’ he got out of his car, expecting to help ‘his people’ as he always did. What followed was a horrific and gruesome murder. He was shot multiple times and attacked with sharp objects. Travelling with him was his younger son, my uncle, who was also severely injured by the merciless communist terrorists.
Despite their plans to burn them inside the car being foiled by the timely arrival of the police, my grandfather succumbed to his injuries while my uncle survived. This tragic assassination ended the life of the most influential political leader from the South at the time and marked the beginning of a wave of violence that swept across the island, making crime a norm for the next few years. As I write this, tears stream down my face, for no human being should endure such an ordeal for being a genuine politician, a people’s leader, and most importantly, for no fault of his own.
Born on May 26, 1926, in Dikwella, a coastal town in Matara, my grandfather displayed impeccable leadership qualities from a young age. Actively engaging in community work, he was extremely popular and voiced against injustice whenever possible, early signs of his future as a charismatic leader. A reputed businessman in the area, owning the legendary Weerasinghe Hotel and Stores, young Weerasinghe had been active in politics since the early 1940s, influenced by the leftist movement of the time. His love for people kept him consistently involved in politics throughout the 1950s, leading him to become the head of the Dikwella Gam Sabhawa, equivalent to the modern-day Pradeshiya Sabha, in 1966-67. To this day, older generations from the area recall with utmost gratitude how this aspiring young leader saved people during the 1969 floods, driving a tractor himself at times, or arranging for boats from Nilwella to ensure people were rescued from flood-affected areas. These deeds played a significant role in securing my father’s victory in later Local Government elections, as people still remember my grandfather’s valour and commitment. During the 1971 JVP insurrection, he displayed great courage, ensuring that the area was not engulfed in turmoil. With his house located right in front of the police station in Dikwella, he took responsibility for the safety of common people, guarding the region against destruction and ensuring that no arbitrary arrests of young people took place.
In 1976, my grandfather took up the responsibility of organizing the Tangalle constituency, emerging victorious in the 1977 General Election with the highest votes in the region, 23,456 votes (58.36%), marking his phenomenal entry into Parliament. What followed were ten years of incredible social service by a leader who dedicated his entire life to the people. An asset to the United National Party, he was highly regarded by the party leadership, and his requests for development projects were given more significance compared to other public representatives. Among his noteworthy accomplishments, many stand out even today from his ten-year tenure, which was tragically cut short by ill-willed political factions. Had he been spared, the tremendous work he would have done for the people of the Hambantota district would be incomparable. Inspired by my grandfather, my father, also a passionate politician, cites a few great examples of his service.
The communities in coastal areas like Gurupokuna, Godallawella, Kahandamodara, Rekawa, Welipatanwila, and Netolpitiya, who previously had no access to clean water and relied on husk retting pits, were granted clean water as one of MP Weerasinghe’s first initiatives. People still enjoy clean drinking water from the projects he initiated, like the Ranna Water Supply Scheme, and remember him with utmost gratitude. He pioneered infrastructure development in Hambantota, transforming Angunakolapelessa from an elephant-infested jungle with poor facilities into one of the fastest-growing towns in the constituency.
Remarkably, he brought a Salu Sala to Angunakolapelessa, along with prominent banks, the Electricity Board, the AG Office, and the Mahaweli Development Authority. It was his cherished dream to see Angunakolapelessa become a thriving hub of business and development in the South.
My grandfather was known for challenging officials who dismissed public pleas. One notable development project was the construction of Abeyeskaragama Road, which officials had initially deemed impossible. MP Weerasinghe summoned the officials to the site and instructed them to begin construction, leading to the currently carpeted road that connects Kachchigal Aara in Angunakolapelessa to Abeysekaragama, linking six surrounding villages. Another significant construction was the road from Hakuruweva to Morayaya via Bogamuwa Gajanayakagama. He also initiated the construction of reservoirs like Thahanchiweva, Unakuruweva, and Sitinamaluwa Yayawewa to address severe water scarcity in Hambantota.
At one point, the community in Kailevelpotawa in Dambarella, Thalawa, where none of the residents had access to water despite surrounding areas receiving water from the Mahaweli, protested. Officials ignored them, but my grandfather summoned both the officials and villagers, demanding that a canal be dug, which is now known as the “Political Ela.” He was a rare breed of politician, moulded by society, who knew what people needed and fearlessly worked to provide it. There were also incidents where his boldness outshone his contemporaries. In 1969, when the new Dikwella bridge was to be declared open by MP Ronnie de Mel without informing my grandfather, who was heading the village council at the time, my grandfather drove through the newly opened bridge, breaking the celebratory ribbons and declaring it open himself. This act demonstrated the importance of acknowledging the dedication of common people and the contribution of local authorities to development.
MP Weerasinghe dedicated his weekends to the people, driving around his constituency on Saturdays to gather information on who needed what. He might have been the only political leader who offered jobs by going door-to-door. He not only provided employment opportunities but also took care of travel expenses and clothing needed for rural youth to attend interviews. On Sundays, his ‘public day,’ he would sit at home and attend to requests and pleas from hundreds of people from 6:00 AM until late at night. Remarkably, he never used a diary or a secretary. Every meeting, request, and appointment was memorized and attended to without delay.
It is important to note that my grandfather never made money from politics. He ran businesses for income; to him, politics was a service, a way of life. Such was the lifestyle of a genuine public representative, a standard unmatched by current politicians, a demeanour they cannot portray.
Note:
The author is the younger daughter of MP Weerasinghe’s second son, Madulal Weerasinghe, a former Provincial Councillor. Inspired by the work of her grandfather and father, she continues to dedicate herself to development efforts. She can be reached at lihini.weerasinghe14@gmail.com.