A Lesson in Leadership from Ratmalana

The Rain-Soaked General: A Lesson in Leadership from Ratmalana

In an era long before the instant gratification of SMS, WhatsApp, or email, life moved at the pace of a handwritten letter. Landlines were a rare luxury, and the arrival of a formal envelope from the college principal was an event of significant gravity. 

Such was the case during one long school vacation more than five decades ago, when a letter arrived requesting our presence for a special duty: welcoming a visiting head of state at the Colombo Airport, Ratmalana. 

The Journey to the Tarmac

Dressed in crisp school uniforms, my brothers and I headed to college. The Principal, Mr H.C.L. De Silva, received us with a warmth that spoke of genuine appreciation. In those days, a principal’s rapport with his students and the leadership shown by senior prefects like my elder brother formed the backbone of the institution. 

We were bundled into a classic Route 102 (Lunawa – Kotahena) double-decker bus, a crimson giant navigating the streets toward the airport. We lined the leading road, flags in hand, waiting for the arrival of the Indian Prime Minister, Mrs Indira Gandhi. 

Having later spent decades in the aviation industry, I now understand why VVIP flights rarely adhere to a published schedule, but to a group of schoolboys in the 1970s, the delay was simply part of the adventure. 

The Storm and the Statue

The morning was brilliantly sunny until, without warning, the heavens opened. A torrential downpour began, and on the open road, there was no shelter to be found. We stood there, soaked to the bone within minutes.

It was in this moment that the "Old School" spirit manifested. A student from our sister college offered Mr De Silva an umbrella; he refused. A policeman on duty offered his official raincoat; again, the Principal curtly but politely declined. He stood in the lashing rain, unflinching, drenched alongside his "boys."

He was a true general leading his platoon, refusing any comfort that his troops did not also share.

A nearby policeman, observing the scene, remarked in Sinhala: “Me inne niyama mahathmayek”—this is what you call a true gentleman. 

The Passing Motorcade

When the rain finally ceased, the Indian Air Force aircraft, a Russian-built Tupolev Tu-124, descended from the clouds, landing with its landing lights piercing the mist. 

As Mrs Gandhi was whisked away in a motorcade of tinted-glass "bag cars," we waved our small flags with pride. Though the political backdrop of the time was heavy with propaganda, for us, the joy was in the spectacle and the shared ordeal we had just survived. 

Reflections on a Vanished Era

Looking back after 53 years, the memory of the aircraft and the motorcade has faded, but the image of Mr H.C.L. De Silva remains vivid. He was the embodiment of a "gentleman", well-spoken, impeccably dressed, and possessed of an ironclad integrity. 

When we compare that generation of educators and leaders to the "position-holders" of today, a difficult question arises: Where did the trajectory change? 

The Policy Shift: Many argue that the "Sinhala Only" policy of 1956 gradually narrowed our global outlook and disconnected us from the broader "Gentleman’s Code" that was once a hallmark of Ceylonese elite education.

 

• The Loss of Meritocracy: The transition from character-based leadership to politically aligned appointments has undeniably altered the ethos of our institutions.
• The Erosion of Example: Today, leadership is often viewed as a collection of privileges rather than a burden of responsibility. 

The "Old School" was not just about the curriculum; it was about a stoic commitment to those under your care.

Mr De Silva didn't need to give a speech about integrity that day, he simply stood in the rain.

#interity #leadership #reflections