Chelvanayakam: The Man with a Sharper Mind and a Slower Tongue |
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by Sachi Sri Kantha [Dedication: This essay on Chelvanayakam is dedicated to the memory of his
erudite son-in-law Prof.A.Jeyaratnam Wilson, whose scholarship on Ceylon
politics was a source of benefit for me. I met Prof.Wilson only once, in
1981, in Colombo. Since then, until his death in 2000 - though distance
separated us - we did exchange our views infrequently via letters.] Introduction Paul Erdos (1913-1996), the
eminent-eccentric Hungarian mathematician, had a derisive nickname for
God. In Erdos’s lingo, God is the Supreme Fascist (SF). Why? SF hids
all the beautiful proofs to amazing mathematical theorems in His
unpublished Book. This may indeed be true for pure mathematics. But,
God’s formula for a successful politician in any culture is a 'no
brainer'; a slimy creature with a sharp tongue and a slower mind. One can only postulate that
once in a blue moon when he was in a benevolent mood, the Supreme
Fascist of Erdos also takes pity on the plight of his followers and does
reverse his ingredients on his politician’s formula; i.e., sending a
straight creature with a sharp mind and a slower tongue, as
emancipators. Colonial India suffering from the manacles of British
imperialism got Mahatma Gandhi in 1915. Eelam Tamils were the
beneficiaries of the Supreme Fascist’s benevolent mood, when he pushed
Samuel James Velupillai (S.J.V.) Chelvanayakam onto the political stage
of island colonial Ceylon in 1947, which was about to receive its
independence. The name Chelvanayakam, in
Tamil, with two components - literally meant the ‘a wealthy hero’ [Chelvam
= wealth; nayakam = hero]. With his legal acumen, he could have
ended his life as an economically wealthy man. Then, he would have been
less of a hero to Tamils. Tamils have had their share of economically
wealthy guys who were ‘propped up’ heros. But Chelva sacrificed his
personal wealth to enrich the emotional wealth of Eelam Tamils by his
deeds, and became a real hero. The individual who was
cloaked by the name Chelvanayakam also carried quite a number of other
endearing appelations. He came to be identified respectfully in the
Tamil press as Eelathu Gandhi [The Gandhi of Eelam], Thanthai
Chelva [Father Chelva], and Periyavar [The Elder]. In oral
communications, at an informal level, Tamils also endearingly called him
–late in his life - as Kilavan [The Old Man] and Seviddu
[The Deaf] Chelva. The last two appelations, describing his physical
frailities, were not in any sense meant to be pejoratives of his
senility. They were intended as intimate appellations used for a beloved
old kin. He was born in March 31,
1898, in Ipoh of colonial Malayan State. He
reached colonial Jaffna when he was 4 years old [probably in 1902
or 1903] with his mother and siblings. Though being seriously afflicted
with Parkinson’s disease and increasing deafness since mid 1950s, that
he stood up for Tamil (both Indigenous and recent Indian-origin) rights
in the political arena which he entered actively in 1947, at the expense
of his personal health and wealth, was deeply appreciated by Tamils.
Majority Hindus of Ceylon were willing to be led by a physically-sick
politician whose mind was sharper, tongue was slower and who was also a
nominal Christian. In the 1960s and 1970s, his walk had turned into
slow-paced drills in gymnastics. His voice was hardly audible. More than
often, because of the ravage of Parkinsonism, saliva drools needed
wiping by the caring secretary who assisted him by holding the
leader’s hand to prevent falls. But in the eyes of Eelam Tamils for
two generations, Chelva had turned into a prophet since 1956. I’m rather disappointed
that the available information in the internet doesn’t do justice to
the service and stature of Chelvanayakam. Among other things, these also
carry potshots posted by the uncouth functionaries of the University
Teachers for Human Rights (Jaffna) and the muck spitted by the
brown-skinned Buddhist Aryan boors like H.L.D.Mahindapala. To balance
the misinformation and hearsay peddled by these quacks, I present this
vignette on Chelvanayakam, which is a miscellany of (a) under-recorded
facts, (b) excerpts from my book review of Chelva’s biography by
Prof.A.J.Wilson and (c) my personal impressions, as occasionally
recorded in my memories and diaries. My first glance at Leader
Chelva Forty years have passed
since my first glance at Leader Chelva. It was in 1963. I was a ten year
old school boy, studying at the Colombo Hindu College, Ratmalana. It was
a heavy rainy day and nearly two-third of my classmates failed to turn
up on that day. Thus, nearly ten of us were present on that day.
Unusually, we had to make two trips to the Assembly Hall on that day.
This was because, we had two distinguished visitors scheduled to talkto
us. In the morning, we were treated to a exposition on Tamil literature
by the distinguished Tamil scholar and editor Ki.Vaa.Jagannathan (then
editor of Kalaimagal literary magazine) from Tamil Nadu. From
Jagannathan’s lip, Tamil flowed like a river. In the afternoon, the boys
who were present on that rainy day were asked to assemble at the
Assembly Hall for the second time. Our guest speaker was leader
Chelvanayakam. For us, Chelvanayakam presented a distinct contrast to
Jagannathan’s Tamil oratory. He would have spoken for about 20
minutes, the details of which have been erased from my memory now. But I
still remember his two introductory sentences. Chelva spoke softly in
measured tones; “Naan oru arasiyal-vaathi; Neengal Maanavarkal.”
[ I am a politician; You are students.] Glancing side to side, we
listened with muffled giggles
at our guest speaker. He was not impressive to us then. But at that age,
we could be excused for our ignorance on Chelva’s stature among Eelam Tamils. In the
following days, we enjoyed doing impressions of Chelva’s un-impressive
speaking style. In subsequent years in the
1960s, I came to learn a little more about leader Chelva’s standing
among Eelam Tamils. It was partially enhanced by other guest speakers we
had at the Colombo Hindu College. Those who closely associated with
Chelva then, such as parliamentarians C.Rajadurai and K.P.Ratnam as well
as loyal foot-soldiers like M.K.Eelaventhan and Kasi Ananthan delivered
speeches to us at the annual nine-day
Saraswathi Pooja celebrations, which were earnestly anticipated
by us each year. It was also aided by the presence of Ravindran (the son
of C.Rajadurai, the Federal Party stalwart from the Eastern Province)
and Muhunthan (nephew of Pundit K.P.Ratnam, another Federal Party
legislator from the North) as my classmates. My apprenticeship in the Sutantiran
camp One of the under-recognized
contributions of Thanthai Chelva (even by his biographer son-in-law
Prof.A.J.Wilson) was his vision and energy in sustaining the publication
of Sutantiran as a communication medium, against serious odds.
Chelva was indeed a patron for young Tamil writers and poets. His Sutantiran
offered space for literary debutants (among whom I count as one), whose
creations would not have received publication elsewhere in the muffled
press of Ceylon. But, few of the professors of Tamil literature in Eelam
who cloak themselves with the Marxist-Progressive labels and parade
as the arbiters of literary merit conveniently ignore the
contributions of the Sutantiran camp, in their occasional
stock-taking reviews. A vivid example is
Karthigesu Sivathamby’s review, on ‘50 Years of Sri Lankan
Tamil Literature’ which appeared in the Madras Hindu group’s
magazine Frontline (April 24-May 7, 1999). Neither the name of Sutantiran
nor its contribution to Eelam Tamil literature were mentioned by
Prof.Sivathamby even in a line. Was it an inadvertent omission or a
deliberate omission? Thanthai Chelva became a
fixture in my mind after the 1970 General Elections. At home, my father
regularly bought Sutantiran tabloid weekly. I learnt more on the
thoughts and deeds of Chelva, from the pen of Kovai Mahesan, the editor
of Sutantiran. Eventually, it was to Sutantiran that I
sent my own writings from 1974 and became a published writer in Tamil. I
was paid nothing. It was no big deal. I
was more than happy that my by-line appeared in the paper owned by
leader Chelva, and not elsewhere. For me, that itself was a
batch of higher merit. I was proud of my
affiliation as the writer from the Sutantiran camp in the 1970s.
This was because, Sutantiran, the political journal of Chelva,
was attacked and harassed from various fronts. The Sinhalese partisans
and the Intelligence arm of the Sri Lankan State had a vigil on what Sutantiran
published. Sutantiran was also attacked by the Tamils who openly
scorned Federal and human
right principles. Among these were the Communist Party loyalists, Tamil
academics and literati (prominent among these were Prof.K.Kailasapathy,
Prof.K.Sivathamby, Prof.S.Sivasegaram, Dominic Jeeva and
Dr.N.Shanmugaratnam) who cloaked themselves with fancy labels such as
Progressives, Leftist Free Thinkers and Jana Vegaya group – which had a Tamil publication called Jana Vegam, edited
by novelist Ilankeeran (pen-name of a Jaffna Muslim Zubair). These
Left-oriented minds, who waddled in the then fashionable word play of
Marxist-socialist slogans castigated Sutantiran for catering to
the Tamil bourgeoisie and pandering Tamil racism. It is bizarrely funny
that with the collapse of Marxist-Leninist-socialism in the late 1980s,
those who pouted the manthra of Marxism as the salvation for
down-trodden in Sri Lanka, quickly changed their cloak to human rights
activism. Sutantiran was also criticised by collaborationist-minded Tamil journalists
in Colombo who worked for the Sinhala-owned press establishments as well
as S.T.Sivanayagam (a former editor of Sutantiran itself) who for
a personal reason was piqued with Chelva and joined the Dinapathy
daily, published by the anti-Tamil press establishment in Colombo.
Despite all these distractions, Sutantiran marched on, sustained
by the loyal readership Federal Party activists in Eelam and elsewhere.
So, I was pleased that my writings had a ready audience, who were in
league with Chelva’s ideals. Between 1974 and 1981 (when
I left the island), over 25 of my essays, commentaries and India
travelogue (1981) covering the 5th International Conference
on Tamil Studies held in Madurai under the auspices of MGR government,
were published by Kovai Mahesan in Sutantiran. And another 15 of
my non-fiction writings in literary themes appeared in Sudar. One
of these was a six-part review on Kasi Ananthan’s poetry, which
wouldn’t have found an outlet anywhere else. Prof.Sivathamby, in his
above-mentioned 1999 review didn’t even recognize Kasi Ananthan as a
poet! So much for his partisanship and progressive analysis. I’m forever thankful to
editor Kovai Mahesan that he recognized the talent in me and published
my submissions in Sutantiran and its sister publication Sudar,
a literary monthly. Though both Sutantiran and Sudar were
financially unprofitable publishing ventures, that Chelva personally
sustained them until his death demonstrated his conviction to the Eelam
Tamil society. As a beneficiary of these literary vehicles of Chelva, I
was saddened on the eventual fate of both his publications.
The elegiac lament in
Tellipalai and Dr.Kaleel’s heart-felt tribute Here are my diary entries, relating to leader Chelvanayakam,
in the year 1977. I was staying in Colombo then. I had graduated from
the University of Colombo and was working as a demonstrator in zoology.
In my off-duty hours, I was somewhat a volunteer in Tamil Youth Front
activities in Colombo. Kovai Mahesan, who served as the editor of both Sutantiran
weekly and Chudar literary monthly, was one of my mentors in
journalism. Feb.13, Sunday: I went to Thanthai Chelva’s house [in 16, Alfred House Gardens,
Colombo 3], to participate at the General Committee meeting of the Thamil
Ilaignar Peravai [Tamil Youth Council]. Maavai Senathirajah [now a
TULF MP] and Kallaru Nadesanantham, both of whom were released from
prison lately, attended today’s meeting. I received introductions from
both. Feb.14, Monday: Yesterday only, I had an opportunity to spend few hours at
Thanthai Chelva’s house. What a simple house which is devoid of any
traces of affluence or vanity. I cannot even imagine that our Leader is
living amongst us in such a simple fashion! Feb.20, Sunday: Afternoon 5:00pm, I went to Thanthai Chelva’s house. Quite a
number of TULF MPs and supporters were gathered there for discussions.
[Because of the crowd and want of space], we conducted the Committee
meeting of Tamil Youth Council, at the nearby rented room of A.E.S.[Arasanga
Eluthuvinaignar Sangam]. At the end of the meeting, few of us
discussed the current problem with S.Kathiravelpillai, the MP for Kopay.
His point was: “Our boys aren’t ready, isn’t it? Before they
become ready, those guys would gulp all our land.” March 24, Thursday: Yesterday morning, Thanthai Chelvanayakam had accidentally fallen
at his Tellipalai house and was admitted to the Jaffna hospital in an
unconscious state. In the afternoon, I went to the Sutantiran
office and inquired about Chelva’s health from Kovai Mahesan. He
replied that, he had received news that the elder’s condition appears
better than yesterday. April 27, Wednesday: This morning, when I scanned the Dinapathi newspaper, I
was shocked to read the front page news. After being in an unconscious
state for 34 days, Thanthai Chelva had expired last night around
10:00pm. April 28, Thursday: Today is officially my last day of work at the University of
Colombo [as the Demonstrator in Zoology.] I have decided to leave for
Jaffna tomorrow to attend the funeral [of Chelva]. April 29, Friday: Left for Jaffna in the morning Yal Devi train. Once the
train passed Vavuniya, it appeared that every inch of Tamil Eelam is in
mourning. Reached the Kankesanthurai station, proceeded to the junction
and took bus and reached Tellipalai at 2:30pm. [My kin’s house was in
the neighborhood of Chelva’s house in Tellipalai.] Every inch of the
land from Kankesanthurai through Maviddapuram and Tellipalai had been
decorated with white flags, black flags. Pamphlets filled with elegiac
verses filled the space. Sombre mood vibrated in the air via the tune of
[wind instrument] Nagaswaram. From 5:30pm to 7:00pm, I
was at the Tellipalai junction, observing the action around me.
Condolence offerings in various modes – wall posters and microphone
voice wailings from the passing automobiles – dominated the scene. The
remains of Chelva was brought to Tellipalai around 9:30pm. From the
junction to his house, there was uncontrollable grief from the assembled
fans and followers of Chelva. At last, Periyavar (the Elder)
entered his house finally around 11:00pm. For the following one hour, I
was waiting outside the house – pummeled by the push and pull of
grieving Tamils. After midnight, I was able to enter the house and paid
my last respects to Chelva and retired for sleep. April 30, Saturday: Today takes place the final journey of Thanthai Chelva. Woke up
at 6:30am and made my way to Chelva’s house to have a close look at
his ‘face’ for the final time. Compared to last night, today the
mourners were more orderly, and they moved in silence. Once more I also
paid my final respects to Chelva. The funeral procession was scheduled
to begin at 9:00am. Thus, I positioned myself in front of the Union
College at 8:30am. The funeral prayers at the house took additional
time. Thus, the funeral procession from the house began exactly at
10.30am. The specially designed casket containing Chelva’s remains was
placed in the hearse. The head of the leader was slightly elevated in
the casket so that mourners could have a glance at the face. Tellipalai
natives offered their fond farewell to their local man who led the
Tamils, by shedding tears and wailing. One particular elegiac rhyming
lament in Tamil, which hung in one of the junctions at Tellipalai, said
it all lucidly: ‘The Great Man is passing
in the procession with his life; The dead bodies – We -
are all standing in the Street.’ The Tamil original was as
follows: Uthamanaar oorvalaththil
Uyiroodu Pohinrar; Seththavarai Nam ellam
Veethiyile Nirkinrom!
May 1, Sunday: I left Tellipalai at 7:30am and reached Kankesanthurai. From
Kankesanthurai took a bus to Point Pedro. While passing towns like
Myliddy, my eyes twitched and tears dripped when I saw the condolence
notices and elegies for Chelva pasted in the walls, buildings along the
roadside. While I waited for the bus at the K.K.S. Road, even the pasted
condolence notices and elegies of G.G.Ponnambalam (Chelva’s early
political pal and later adversary, who died two months earlier in
February 1977) remained in place without fading. This is an irony for
Tamils. Both, who strode like giants had left us in
quick succession. May 14, Saturday: [in Colombo] Went to Wellawatte Ramakrishna Hall to attend the
memorial meeting of Thanthai
Chelva. Leading politicians from many parties were in the stage. These
included T.B.Illangaratne (SLFP), J.R.Jayewardene (UNP), Bernard Soysa (LSSP),
Pieter Keuneman (CP). Dr.M.C.M.Kaleel spoke first in English. He was
followed by V.Ponnambalam and M.S.Sellasamy in Tamil. The meeting came
to an end after the orations of M.Sivasithamparam and A.Amirthalingam.
The meeting was presided by former Justice V.Manickavasagar. Among the
speakers, the two messages presented by Dr.Kaleel was well received by
the audience with applause. These were as follows: (1)
“When the Muslim community was in trouble in Puttalam, although
there were so many Muslim [political] representatives in the National
State Assembly, it was only Chelvanayakam who took up the issue and
condemned the government’s action.” (2)
“Leaders of the two powerful parties are here in the stage. It
is no point, just paying lip services to the late leader [Chelva] and
forgetting it, when they go home. It will be a humble tribute to Chelva,
if these people can act on their words, for the betterment of the
relationship of the Sinhala and Tamil communities.” Prof.Jeyaratnam Wilson’s
Biography and my Review Prof.A.Jeyaratnam Wilson,
an erudite scholar on post-independent Sri Lankan politics, wrote a
short biography of the Federal Party leader in 1994. It was entitled, S.J.V.Chelvanayakam
and the Crisis of Sri Lankan Tamil Nationalism, 1947-1977 (Hurst
& Co, London, 149pp). He was gracious enough to send me a
complimentary copy with the annotation: ‘To dear Sachi – With warm
affection as Ever; 8 September 1994.’ In the absence of any other
biography in English on Chelva, it was a worthy addition to political
bookshelf. But, for reasons unknown to me, it had more than its share of
factual errors on dates, which couldn’t be attributed to proof-reading
errors. Even Chelva’s date of death stated in the book as ‘27
March’ [1977] was an error. Nevertheless, one should admit that he had
a difficult task at his hand, being a kin to Chelva by marriage to his
daughter. I made the following
impartial observations on Wilson’s biography of Chelva. To quote, “…Permit me to make
some comments on what is missing in Wilson’s biography. This is not to
disappoint the prospective buyers or to ridicule
the effort of Prof.Wilson, but to reveal how much Chelva offers
for future biographers. I have nothing other than admiration and respect
for Prof.Wilson’s scholarship. I look back to the year
1970. Time: The day after the May General Election in the then Ceylon. Place: Bambalapitiya bus stand (towards the Borella route). Action: In front of the newspaper shop, about 40-50 Sinhalese (all males)
were listening to the election results on the radio in Sinhala,
set by the news vendor. I was a bystander (probably the only Tamil in
that gathering), waiting for the Borella-bound bus. In repeated succession, the
results from the Southern electorates were being announced and those who
were gathered there expressed their jubilation by clapping for the SLFP
winners of that election. Then, like a bolt, the election result of the
Kankesanthurai constituency was announced, and Chelvanayakam was
reported as the winner. All those who were gathered there expressed
their admiration for Chelva too by clapping and nodding their heads.
There, I witnessed how much respect Chelva commanded among the ordinary
Sinhalese folks. The book by Prof.Wilson fails to record in detail, how
the ordinary Sinhalese and Muslims perceived Chelva as the politician. I was also puzzled that
Prof.Wilson had stated, ‘The Muslims did not support the FP but they
respected Chelvanayakam and placed their faith in his goals for
protecting the rights of the Tamil linguistic groups.’ (p.112). In the
1956 election, Gate Mudaliyar M.S.Kariapper (Kalmunai) and his
son-in-law M.M.Mustapha (Pottuvil) won on the FP ticket. In the July
1960 election, M.C.Ahamed won the Kalmunai seat as an FP candidate.
M.E.H.Muhamed Ali was elected for Mutur in 1962 (by-election) and 1965
as an FP nominee. These MPs later joined either the UNP or SLFP. But the
fact that they were elected first as the nominees of the FP show that
between 1956 and 1965, Tamil speaking Muslims of the Eastern Province
did support the FP. I also noticed that no
mention is made in the book about the FP MPs (such as C.Rajadurai and
V.Alegacone) who represented constituencies outside the Jaffna
peninsula. Their representation of Batticaloa and Mannar as FP MPs was
the main difference, that politically separated Chelva from
G.G.Ponnambalam. Whereas the Tamils in Batticaloa and Mannar placed much
faith on Chelva, G.G.Ponnambalam’s circle of influence was mainly
restricted within the Jaffna peninsula. It is my impression that
Chelva’s biography would have been further enriched if in-depth use of
existing public documents (such as Chelva’s speeches in the parliament
and political cartoons in the Lake House press which featured Chelva)
had been made. I vividly remember one cartoon which appeared in 1968
after the UNP-FP split. I have forgotten who the cartoonist is (either
Wijesoma or Opatha). He drew Dudley Senanayake (as the male) standing
with a broom-stick in the garden putting a perplexed face, with Chelva
(dressed in sari) with a suitcase in his hand heading toward the gate.
That cartoon did tell quite a lot of messages regarding the
Sinhala-Tamil links in the then Ceylon. I wish to stress again that
the above comments are made only to show that Chelva has much to offer
for future biographers. Prof. Wilson has just opened the route. Others
can follow him for a richer harvest. Lastly, I thank Prof.Wilson for
sending me a complimentary copy of his book.” [Tamil Times,
London, Jan.1995, p.29] Chelvanayakam’s Electoral
Results at Kankesanthurai (1947-1975) In Prof.Wilson’s
biography, the details of the results of general elections (1947-70) and
the 1975 by-election in which Chelva stood before the Tamil voters have
also been regrettably missing. For archival record, I provide below the
election results in which Chelva stood as a candidate in the Kankesanthurai
constituency under three political labels: Tamil Congress (TC),
Federal Party (FP) and Tamil United Front (TUF). His opposing candidates
came from other parties, namely, TC (since 1952), United National Party
(UNP), Lanka Samasamaja Party (LSSP), Viplavakari Lanka Samasamaja Party
(VLSSP), Communist Party (CP) and Communist Party-China (CPC). Seven Tamil notables had
opposed Chelva in the elections. They were as follows: S.Natesan (in 1947, 1952
and 1956) P.Nagalingam (in 1947) V.Ponnambalam (in 1956,
1970 and 1975) V.Karalasingham (in 1960
March and 1965) K.Vaikunthavasan (in 1965) C.Suntheralingam (in 1970) T.Thirunavukkarasu (in
1970) Among these seven, other
than S.Natesan who defeated Thanthai Chelva in 1952 at the
Kankesanthurai constituency, C.Suntheralingam and T.Thirunavukkarasu had
been elected to the parliament as MPs from Vavuniya and Vaddukoddai
constituencies. 1947 General Election Total Electorate
38,871 Total votes polled
22,425 Percent polled
57.69 Spoilt
534 Majority of winner
6,966 S.J.V.Chelvanayakam (TC)
12,126 P.Nagalingam (LSSP)
5,160 S.Natesan (UNP)
4,605 1952 General Election Total Electorate
38,439 Total votes polled
27,263 Percent polled
70.93 Spoilt
355 Majority of winner
3,766 S.Natesan (UNP)
15,337 S.J.V.Chelvanayakam (FP )
11,571 1956 General Election Total Electorate
40,964 Total votes polled
27,673 Percent polled
67.55 Spoilt
317 Majority of winner
6,667 S.J.V.Chelvanayakam (FP )
14,855 S.Natesan (Ind)
8,188 V.Ponnambalam (CP)
4,313 1960 March General Election Total Electorate
28,473 Total votes polled
20,279 Percent polled
71.22 Spoilt
244 Majority of winner
8,503 S.J.V.Chelvanayakam (FP )
13,545 V.Karalasingham (LSSP)
5,042 R.N.Sivapirakasam (TC)
1,448 1960 July General Election Total Electorate
28,473 Total votes polled
17,808 Percent polled
62.54 Spoilt
131 Majority of winner
13,659 S.J.V.Chelvanayakam (FP )
15,668 R.N.Sivapirakasam (TC)
2,009 1965 General Election Total Electorate
35,309 Total votes polled
25,571 Percent polled
72.42 Spoilt
269 Majority of winner
8,124 S.J.V.Chelvanayakam (FP )
14,735 S.Sri Bhaskaran (TC)
6,611 V.Karalasingham (VLSSP)
2,257 K.Vaikunthavasan (CP)
958 V.Seenivasagam (CPC)
741
1970 General Election Total Electorate
37,804 Total votes polled
30,663 Percent polled
81.11 Spoilt
140 Majority of winner
5,356 S.J.V.Chelvanayakam (FP )
13,520 V.Ponnambalam (CP)
8,164 C.Suntheralingam (Ind.)
5,788 T.Thirunavukkarasu (TC)
3,051 1975 February 3/ By-
Election Total Electorate
41,227 Total votes polled
35,737 Percent polled
87.09 Spoilt
168 Majority of winner
16,470 S.J.V.Chelvanayakam (TUF)
25,927 V.Ponnambalam (CP)
9,457 M.Ambalavanar (Independent)
185 Altogether, in the eight
elections he was a candidate between 1947 and 1975, Chelva was a victor
in seven. He lost only in the 1952 general election. Thanthai Chelva’s Sickness
– a Conjecture I have long been interested
in the sickness of Thanthai Chelva, since I first saw him in 1963. He
remains the most famous Parkinson’s disease victim in Ceylon. But to
the best of my knowledge, I have yet to come across an investigative
report delving on how Chelva became a Parkinson’s disease victim. Even
Prof. Wilson had skirted this issue in his biography, for understandable
reasons. Though I’m not medically qualified, I venture to propose a
hypothesis based on my background research. Among the Eelam Tamils of
Chelva’s generation, Parkinson’s disease was rare. One of the
currently prominent view on the etiology of idiopathic Parkinson’s
disease is the degeneration of brain dopaminergic system due to insult
by enviornmental neurotoxins in genetically vulnerable or susceptible
individuals. Now, let me re-state some vital facts on Chelva’s early
life and family history. He was born on 1898 March 31, as the eldest
child of James Visvanathan Velupillai and his wife Harriet Annamah in
Ipoh, Malaya, where his parents had emigrated previously. I don’t have information
on when Chelva’s parents emigrated to Ipoh, Malaya. But, Ipoh is
located in the Kinta Valley, which was touted as the world’s richest
single tin field. In 1884, the famous Kinta Valley tin rush brought an
influx of immigrants from China and colonial India. The heyday of tin
mining in Ipoh and its enviorns began in 1893. One could reasonably
presume that Chelva’s father was also one of these immigrants who
landed there to make his fortune. He was originally a school teacher
from Tholpuram, Jaffna. He left his teaching job in Jaffna and
transformed into a ‘contractor’ [or businessman] in Ipoh. This family background and
the environmental conditions of Chelva’s birth in 1898, strongly
suggest that he or his mother (while Chelva was in her womb) could have
been an early victim of tin-related toxic exposure. My conjecture is
further strengthened by the unfortunate fates of Chelva’s two younger
siblings, who died young. Father Velupillai moved from Ipoh to Taiping
after Chelva’s birth. In 1901, a younger brother to Chelva was born.
He was christened as Ernest Velupillai Ponnuthurai. He lived for over 80
years in Jaffna. In 1902, another younger brother named Edward
Rajasundaram became the latest addition. He died at the age of 15 in
Jaffna. One younger sister of Chelva, Atputham Isabel had died as a
toddler at the age of 2. Chelva and his two siblings
returned to Jaffna with their mother Harriet Annamah, when he was 4 –
which could have been in either 1902 or 1903. His father Velupillai
stayed put in Malaya. Why Mr.Velupillai sent his young wife and three
boys back to Jaffna? The stated reasons are two-fold. Both were of equal
priority. First, was the delicate health of his wife Annamah in the
surroundings they lived in Taiping. The fact that she had lost a toddler
would have weighed heavily on the minds of Velupillai couple. Second was
any good father’s perennial wish to provide better education to his
kids, and Mr.Velupillai had felt that colonial Jaffna offered great
schools and stimulating mileau of Tamil culture, in comparison to the
environs where they were living then. Of course, the fact that
Mr.Velupillai never returned to Jaffna to be with his young family in
the first decade of the 20th century, has been picked up –
from Prof.Wilson’s biography - by
journalist hack H.L.D.Mahindapala as a thorn to spread the innuendo that
there was marital discord in Velupillai household. This need not be so,
for the two above-cited reasons. One should also not fail to take into
consideration factors like (a) the difficulties in sea voyage one had to
encounter for frequent vacation trips in the days before air travel, (b)
neck-stiffening contracts with colonial administrators and business
contacts, and (c) a Jaffna man’s wish to earn much money while in the
spring of his life, to settle in Jaffna later in comfort – at the
expense of his young brood. Even if there was a hint of
marital discord between Velupillai couple, as hack Mahindapala had
proposed, so what? Young Chelvanayakam blossomed into a gifted adult and
turned out to be the much wanted Father-figure of Eelam Tamils. His
senior contemporary in India, Mahatma Gandhi lost his father
when he was very young and immature, and that loss didn’t hurt
him to evolve into the father-figure of 20th century India.
According to records, Chelva after completing his studies (and before
entering the law school) visited his father once in Malaya in 1918. His
father died in 1919. One is not sure how old he was, when Mr.Velupillai
died. But, he could well have been under 50. The toil in a not-so
emotionally nourishing environment and the absence of his family would
probably have accelerated his death. But Chelva’s mother had a long
life and died on March 16, 1961 at the age of 84 in Jaffna, while his
eldest son was leading the Gandhian Satyagraha campaign against Sirimavo
Bandaranaike regime. To sum up, it is my
conjecture that circumstantial evidence suggests that Chelva’s
Parkinson’s disease could be attributed to environmental insult
received while he was a fetus or as an infant in the then
tin-rich Ipoh, Malaya. One hundred years after his birth, medical
literature is revealing that tin as a metal is an environmental toxicant
which can cause deleterious effects to the nervous system. For
reference, I cite below three recent medical reports on this theme. 1.
McCann MJ, O’Callaghan JP, Martin PM, Bertram T, Streit WJ.
Differential activation of microglia and astrocytes following trimethyl
tin-induced neurogeneration. Neuroscience, 1996 May; vol.72,
pp.273-281. 2.
Koczyk D. How does trimethyltin affect the brain: facts and
hypotheses. Acta Neurobiol. Exp. (Warsz), 1996; vol.56,
pp.587-596. 3.
Salanki Y, D’eri Y, Platokhin A, Sh-Rozsa K. The neurotoxicity of
environmental pollutants; the effects of tin (Sn2+) on
acetylcholine-induced currents in greater pond snail neurons. Neuroscience
Behavior Physiology, 2000; vol.30, pp.63-73. I will be interested in
hearing any contradicting arguments which disprove my conjecture. This
is because I believe that the cause of Chelva’s Parkinson’s disease
is well worth an in-depth investigation. July 3, 2003. |