Last day in office in the public service

How Desamanya became Deshabandu Monday, December 29, 1997 was my last day in office and my last working day in a public service which I had entered on May 2, 1961. My last day really would have been December 31 which was my 60th birthday. But I wished to take two days off mainly because on the 31st we traditionally have an alms giving for Ven. monks at home. I had a full days work on the 29th spending the morning in the main section of the Ministry at “Isurupaya” and going across to the higher education section at Ward Place in the late afternoon. I had many things to do and firmly rejected any time to be spent at a farewell. But my officers said that a proper and fitting farewell was very necessary and that they would invite my wife and me later, which indeed they did some months thereafter, when they organized a farewell dinner. I was still at Ward Place at about 7 p.m. when there was a telephone call from the President. She wished to have some information. I was able to give part of it and I said that I would arrange for her to get the balance the next day for I would not be there. She expressed some surprise, and we went on to have a somewhat lengthy conversation, during which I briefed her on my intended foray into the private sector. She seemed rather surprised that my being appointed to the post of Adviser in the Ministry had not been finalized. I said that in any case it was too late now. But she thought I could still serve as an adviser whilst working in the private sector. She said that there was no rule that an adviser needs to work full time. I said that if she wanted me to assist, I would do so, but on an honorary basis. She was surprised at this too and wished to know why I had this view. I said I knew the workings of government very well. Although I did not need to spend hours physically in the Ministry because I knew I could deal with issues and problems quite fast, speak to people on the telephone, even people such as chief ministers and other senior people, and get things done, ultimately, I said what would be talked about would be the allowance I was getting whilst spending little time in the Ministry. That is the mind set of people. What many tended to focus were on process and presence and not on flexibility and performance. I informed the President that therefore, should I be appointed, I would not take any allowance or not even use a government vehicle. I said I had a reputation which I cherished for almost 37 years whilst in service, and that I did not wish to be the subject of any gossip when I had left it. The President however was quite firm. She said that she saw no problem whatsoever in my being paid for the work I do. She reiterated that it certainly did not have to be full time. This conversation ended on the note that she would like to see me sometime in mid January 1998. But it was early March, when she found the time to call me to “Temple Trees.” At this meeting, she urged me to take up the post of Secretary to the Ministry of Public Administration, Home Affairs and Plantation Industries. But by then I was enjoying the sheer peace and relief which had come over me after I laid down the heavy burden of being a Secretary to a Ministry. I had also by that time, on the personal invitation of Mr. Milinda Moragoda joined his Mercantile Merchant Bank. Milinda and I had known each other for over 10 years. I had also known his father Mr. Chris Pinto well, when he was serving as the Legal Adviser to the then Ministry of Defence and External Affairs, when I was Secretary to the Prime Minister. Milinda had kept in touch with me right throughout this period and we used to meet about twice a year for long and extended conversations. These conversations were valued by both of us because they were totally devoid of gossip. We rarely discussed personalities, only issues, both domestic and international. I had found Milinda to be well informed on a wide range of issues, erudite, analytical and what was most refreshing, in a harsh world, gentle, non confrontational and with a deeply held scale of values that urged that a lot of things needed to be approached or done differently. I was happy working with him. I therefore told her not to misunderstand, but that in the very core of my being I felt that I could not take up a Secretary’s post again, at least not in the foreseeable future. She understood and was quite gracious. Thereafter, a few months later she once again called me and requested that I go as an Ambassador. Again I had to decline, because apart from me, my wife was not at all keen to go. Again I told her not to misunderstand, but that as she could see we were “peculiar people.” She laughed. In between, the Foreign Minister Mr. Lakshman Kadirgamar called me to his home and after a long discussion on many matters, invited me to become Secretary to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. This too, I had to politely decline because I now wanted more space and freedom to do other things than being tied full time in government, although it would have been a rewarding experience working with a Minister who was so focused erudite and skilled. A national honour One evening the President’s Secretary Mr. Balapatabendi, telephoned me at home, and informed me that the President had decided to confer the National Honour of “Desamanya” on me. This was of course quite unexpected, and having said so I asked Mr. Balapatabendi to thank the President for her kind gesture. I don’t talk about these matters and I informed only my wife and son about this, requesting them also not to talk about it. When the formal letters and documents were delivered home from “Temple Trees,” about five days before the ceremony to be held at President’s House in the Fort, I found that contrary to what Mr. Balapatabendi had informed me, the letter referred to my receiving the honour “Deshabandu”, which was also a high national honour but one notch below what he had originally told me that I would get. This was most curious. I did not however even telephone and inquire. My position was that I did not ask for any honours, and if the government in its wisdom wished to confer some honour on me and had invited me to receive it, I would go and do so. I therefore, went along with my wife and ceremonially and formally received the honour from the hands of the President on the given date. Several persons who were at the ceremony asked me, how it was that I did not receive the other honour. I said that I did not know and did not really care. In fact I did not even inquire from Mr. Balapatabendi who was present on the occasion. About six months later, I found myself seated next to him at a dinner. I then suddenly remembered this curious episode and asked him what happened. He told me that what the President wanted to confer on me was the National Honour “Desamanya,” but at the last moment they had discovered that the honour could only be held by a certain number of living persons. Given the number to be conferred that time, many of whom were quite old, they had decided to delete from the list my name, I being the youngest in that group. At last the mystery was explained. But nobody had thought of informing me of this change. In the end, somewhat curiously it was not with a feeling of regret, but with one of immense relief that I left the formal public service on the late evening of December 29, 1997. Nothing appeared in a newspaper, because it was not my style to seek publicity. There were however a number of letters that I received from various colleagues in the public service, from the universities and so on. They all said nice things about me, very sincerely and forthrightly. Quite a few of them were modest enough to say that they learnt much from me. Some of them said that I should not be permitted to retire in peace because they believed that I still had much to do, whilst others said they were honoured to have had me as a friend and colleague. But amongst all these one of the strongest views was expressed by Dr. Senaka Bandaranayake, at the time Vice Chancellor of the University of Kelaniya. In a letter to me dated December 31, 1997, which was my birthday and also my final day in the public service. He had this to say:- “It was more than a pleasure to work with you during the last years. I did mean it very sincerely when I said that you were the most outstanding public servant I had worked with ever, and within the limits of my knowledge, the most outstanding public servant of our generation. I know you have a very creative career ahead. Let me wish you all the best in 1998 and in the tasks that you will undertake in the new phase of your life.” At the end of the day, the greatest wealth a public servant would possess would be the free, spontaneous and unsolicited judgment of his peers. In this respect I am very rich. I am in possession of a large number of such letters from people and institutions I have dealt with both in Sri Lanka and other parts of the world. I have numerous letters from people of all walks of life. Many of them are from the numerous people I had helped during a long career. Even 40 years since the beginning of my career there are people I run into who thank me with heartfelt gratitude for some injustice I had prevented or some other help that I had rendered. One of the most remarkable of such experiences was the gesture made by a teacher of mine. He had been a graduate teacher at Thurstan College at the very beginning of the school. He married late and did not have children. I had helped him to get a post of Inspector of Schools, a post he was passionately interested in obtaining. He was a person of merit, seniority and experience. But he was for some reason being overlooked. He was deeply grateful for what I had done. How grateful I was to discover much later when I was Secretary to the Prime Minister. One late evening he and his wife were seated in our sitting room when I reached home at around 9.30 p.m. Seeing visitors my heart sank, because I was so tired. I was also irritated at people being present at this late hour. They had been visiting us from time to time bringing some fruit along each time. But they had never stayed so late. Usually, if I was late they talked to my wife and left. But this time it appeared that they wanted to speak with me and none else. They were acting somewhat strangely. They were looking at each other. They obviously had something to say that they were embarrassed to talk about. There was a hint of tears in the lady’s eyes. Finally, I gently told them that I was very tired, after a long day and asked whether there was anything I could do for them. Then hesitatingly, they came out with the purpose of their visit. They said that they owned about a quarter acre of land at Udahamulla. They were now old and had no children. They had therefore decided to gift this land to us. They begged that we accept. My wife and I were quite stunned. We straightaway said no. My wife is even less acquisitive than I am. We were both determined that we should not accept this gift. By now both of them were in tears imploring us to accept this for all the help I had given them. Finally, we succeeded in getting them not to do this. Both of us advised them, that with old age comes sickness and disease, and that they may need to sell this land at some stage if they had to obtain expensive medical treatment. We impressed upon them that the future was uncertain and that they should act prudently. Thus ended this remarkable episode. A few years later they adopted a child who became their daughter. My teacher is now dead. We hope that this child would in due course inherit this land which was valuable then, and must be extremely valuable now. All these I regard as my core wealth, a wealth that I have earned, and a wealth that no one can take away from me. That and the immense goodwill and respect that I had acquired in the public service and elsewhere, something which I see being visibly demonstrated, in whatever interactions I have with members of the public service as well as others even at this date, three years after I had left the service of government. (Excerpted from In Pursuit of Governance, autobiography of MDD Pieris)