Human beings are political animals. Therefore, political commentary is second
nature to them. I have found that anyone who has a modicum of analytical skills and a
reasonable command of language can easily become a political columnist. The difficult
thing, whether it is a political speech, newspaper column, a question-answer session or
debate, is to be concise without killing the idea. This requires sharp perception, an
ability to distill the essence from political ferment and an exceptional creativity.
A
poet who is sufficiently enamoured with the movement within power equations might come up
with rare gems. But even such a person would be hard pressed if he/she was required to
churn out brief commentary on a daily basis, for it is certainly a tall order to resist
repetition, be fresh and always come up with insights that provoke discussion or
reflection. It is against this that one has to judge and appreciate a political
cartoonist.
Anyone who is acquainted with the political satire that Wijerupage Wijesoma churns out
would without exception marvel at the man’s wit, perception and ability to constantly
surprise. In fact it is possible that the general public have got too much of a good
thing, so much so that we have come to take him for granted. This is easy for me to
forgive, being someone who been in the practice of opening The Island to take in
Wijesoma’s cartoon, first thing in the morning for the last 20 years or so.
It is said that in any occupation/profession, talent counts for 1%, the rest depending
on hard work. I am not sure how the percentages work out in the case of Wijesoma, but
talking to him made me realise the role played by determination, discipline, attitude
towards life and patience, in moulding an exceptionally creative artist. Where did this
quiet, unassuming man whose gentle wit nudges us towards deeper reflection on our social
and political reality, come from, what paths has he walked and what principles does he
refer to in his work and life?
He was born as Wijerupage Wijesoma in 1925 to parents who hailed from the South. His
mother died when he was still a child, and his father, for reasons best known to him, had
taken off with his older brother soon afterwards. The rest of the family had been looked
after by kind-hearted relatives, Wijesoma and his older sister growing up under the tender
care of his mother’s younger sister and for some time by their grandmother, who had
been very fond of the little boy. The family had reunited only in the nineteen forties.
During those early years, he was in the practice of going to the Kuppiyawatte temple every
day with his brother, and chatting with the chief monk before going home. "Those
conversations deeply influenced my thinking," he said.
Needless to say, his "growing" up had not been a smooth process. His aunt had
to work hard to make ends meet. "She was an excellent seamstress, and we lived off
her income". He had started his education at the Maligakande Government School and
then moved to Mahabodhi. Then, when he was around 10, the family had moved to
Thimbirigasyaya. Moving to a new place translated into a period of three years without
schooling. Once things had settled down somewhat, he had enrolled in the Colombo
Industrial School where the education included instruction and practical training in
various crafts. Young Wijesoma had taken up tailoring.
According to Wijesoma, the greater part of his education was obtained from the public
library and the national museum. "I learnt everything there. At that time the zoo was
located near the museum. I would go there on Saturday morning and in the afternoon I would
go to the museum. This is how I grew to love wildlife and nature. During the war years, I
would go to the public library and read the magazines to keep myself updated about what
was happening in the world. This grew to be a habit with me. I would read everything and
this helped me develop a sense of what was happening."
Later, during the war years, he made it a habit of reading the papers every day. He
would even read the newspapers in which the sugar was wrapped. Such exercises have
obviously gone a long way in developing an amazing memory in the man, a faculty that has
clearly held him in good stead over the years. In fact the story was that if Wijesoma is
given a newspaper in the morning and asked about a story in the evening, he would give the
headline, the story, the page and even the column!"
Wijesoma recalls that it was when he was at Maligakande that his drawing ability was
first recognised. "One day a teacher saw me drawing in the sand-tray and in
appreciation took me to a function at a school in Kurunegala". Later, one Mr. Peiris,
seeing his work, had suggested that he produce a newspaper. He had been about 12 or 13 at
that time. His "newspaper" was simple, and in fact hinted at the man he would
become. Wijesoma would pick headlines from newspapers and illustrate them.
"Whenever the Art Inspector, Mr. Beling, came around, he always took one of my
pictures to critique. I remember submitting a drawing for a poster competition on the
evils of drinking. The drawing was of a bottle of Haig, beneath which I drew a
‘devil’. The caption was ‘Don’t be vague, ask for Haig; the devil of
Haig is not vague’," he said with his inimitable soft chuckle. He had won the
first prize, although he reflects that he could have been sued. After that he had entered
many competitions, always being placed among the first three.
"We played the fool in the Sinhala class. The teacher once asked me to talk about
‘sandi’ in the grammar lesson and I said, ‘maradana handiya, borella
handiya...etc.’ and he said ‘indaganna, indaganna, indaganna’." Even
at that early stage, Wijesoma had demonstrated a keen appreciation of word play, again
something that adds that extra punch to his cartoons.
He recalled that scouting had been one of the most influential things in his life. He
revelled in all the scout activities such as camping and hiking, and had been one of three
King’s Scouts of his troop, winning in addition the coveted "Bushman’s
Thong". "During the war years, ‘Troop Rooms’ consisting of about 30
scouts each were set up to operate a messenger service. I was the Troop Leader in one of
these, located near Maligakande Park." Apparently he had been more qualified that
those who were overseeing the messenger service and this had led to some differences of
opinion, which resulted in an ‘inquiry’ after which he was moved to Troop Room 2
as Assistant Scout Master. C. T. Fernando (of the ‘Golden Voice’) had been his
quartermaster. Still later, Wijesoma was asked to set up a new Troop Room, which he
quickly developed into the most efficient among the lot.
Naturally he fully employed his creative talents in scout activities. "I set up a
notice board on a ‘leopard skin’ that I had drawn. It was so life-like that it
fooled a lot of people. I also produced several short plays, designing ‘sound
effects’ to simulate thunder.
"I heard that the Times was hiring proof readers. Frank Moraes was the editor at
that time. I sent in my application, and during the interview he asked me to spell some
jaw-breaking words. I managed to get everything right. Then he said ‘I will let you
know’. I thought this meant a rejection, but as I was about to leave, he asked
‘Can you come from tomorrow?’ So, on the 17th of September 1947 I started
working at the Times."
He had learnt a lot in the "Reading Room". "We got to see news from all
over; good copy, bad copy, everything. The practice was to recruit reporters from the
reading room, so new reporters were already well trained by the time they were sent out to
gather news."
Wijesoma’s determination to become a cartoonist had its roots in the Observer
rejecting a submission he had sent about the CEB and the power supply, titled
"missing the bus". He had vowed to himself that he would some day become a
cartoonist. At the Times, he had given himself three years to move into the editorial.
His career as a cartoonist was launched when Ben Alwis, a sub-editor had walked in to
the reading department and asked who Wijesoma was. Apparently he had won some poster
competition. Since he was on the staff, Ben had carried the story in the newspaper.
"Aubrey Collette went over to the Observer, and G. S. Fernando who was a fine artist
was recruited to do the cartoon. He did the daily cartoon, so I drew a series titled
‘Politicians of Lanka’ for the Sunday edition."
At that time there had been no "pocket cartoonist" in the Times. One day,
inspired by a headline in the Observer which read "Sir John waits in London for his
clothes from Bombay," Wijesoma had drawn a pocket cartoon of Sir John standing in
front of the Big Ben, covering his nudity with a copy of the Observer. He had submitted
this with a couple of other drawings, and the editor, Tory de Souza, had asked him if he
could do three cartoons a week. Wijesoma had said yes, and had promptly been asked to join
the editorial. When the cartoon appeared, he had been asked if he could do it daily. This
was the beginning of his "What a life" series. D. B. Dhanapala had asked him to
draw for the Sunday Lankadeepa, and so the readership was treated to "Wijesomage
siththara pati" and the pocket cartoon "Tikiri Tokka".
After twenty-one years in the Times group, things had changed. There had been problems
about payments in addition to other differences between Wijesoma and the editors. "At
that time I was offered a position in the Janatha, for twice the salary. In 1968, he had
told De Souza, that he was leaving. "He just nodded his head, but later that day he
said ‘When you said you were leaving, I couldn’t talk,’ and wished me well.
He left the Times one month later."
He succeeded Collette at Lake House. "I managed to keep my independence even after
the famous ‘take over’. Around that time, one of my cartoons was not published.
The Chairman, A. K. Premadasa had asked Phillip Cooray to tell me that he wanted to see
me. So we went. After putting me on the murunga aththa, he expressed displeasure about the
particular cartoon, saying that he couldn’t publish it as it was. It depicted
‘Punchi Singho’ with the heavy COL burden on his back, with the World Bank
official saying ‘Put some more’ and NM looking helpless. The caption was
‘Doctor’s Dilemma’. I told him that he probably hadn’t seen the entire
cartoon, but only a part of it (I saw it sticking out under a sheaf of papers). Finally it
was carried.
"Around that time I drew a series called ‘Drawn and quartered by
Wijesoma’, which consisted of four boxes. The Chairman would occasionally drop one of
the boxes, so I told them to leave the fourth box empty. My colleagues asked me why I did
this, and I said ‘These days the cartoons are drawn by Wijesoma and quartered by
Premadasa!’" Premadasa asked me why I always had to have double meanings in my
work and I told him that a cartoon can have even 3 or 4 meanings."
Political interference had got worse after the UNP took over in 1977, according to
Wijesoma. So, when Upali Wijewardena started The Island, he moved over. "Upali was
very appreciative of my work, and has on one occasion even stopped the press because he
had seen me drawing a particular cartoon and wanted to include it somehow. I have only had
minor disagreements at Upali Newspapers."
I asked Wijesoma if he had ever been threatened by anyone on account of his work.
"A few times, but I believe nothing was done because they probably thought that the
consequences of hurting me would be worse."
Wijesoma is not just a cartoonist. While at the Times, he played cricket and soccer. He
is also a writer, having authored several articles in a series called "Tracks and
Trails" for the Sunday Island, and its Sinhala version for the Divaina, called
"Vana gaman". During the bi-centennial celebrations of the USA, he had been one
of 5 people selected to spend two months in that country. "We went from East to West,
and I wrote about 18 articles for the newspaper about our travels and experiences".
He is also a family man, and has raised 6 children with his wife, Mallica Gunatilleke,
whom he describes as a wonderful woman, who was always very supportive. "She was a
good sport, and was willing to drop all her work and take off with me if I suggested some
out of the ordinary expedition such as going to Horton Plains." She had passed away
some 16 years ago. "A long time," I said. "It is not long for me," he
said softly.
Out of the cartoon, Wijesoma, to me, is The Senior Citizen of Upali Newspapers. He
moves around unobtrusively, his eagle eyes missing nothing. A man of few words, his
conversations are like his cartoons, brief, precise, pregnant with several layers of
meaning and bubbling with wit. Perhaps Ajith Samaranayake, who has known the man for much
much longer than I have, describes him best, "An eminently earthy man with an
unerring ear for the nuances of the mass mood, he has the uncanny knack of capturing and
crystallising a situation with a wonderful economy of lines. In his political insights and
his quiet humour, Wijesoma is quite unlike any other political cartoonist in Sri Lanka and
ranks with the best in the world."
Wijesoma believes that a cartoonist has to have political substance. "It is not
enough to be able to draw well. One must be able to cater to different types of people and
different levels of appreciation in the same cartoon. A cartoon must make people
think." Perhaps what separated him from other promising cartoonists around is the
fact that he has remained aloof from political parties. His loyalties are to the Punchi
Singhos of our country, our natural resources and way of life. More than fifty years as a
cartoonist and an honourable citizen I am sure no one will disagree that Wijesoma stands
among the very few in this country who have resolved to do their utmost to make sure that
ordinary people are not short-changed by anyone.
I believe his greatest contribution to our political and social life is to keep alive
the ability to laugh at ourselves. He keeps hope alive. For this alone, we as a nation are
greatly indebted to this gentle and endearing human being.
[This was first published in January 2006 in the 'Satmag' section of 'The Island']
msenevira@gmail.com
An account written on a column or a page with words is expressed in a single frame of a pocket cartoon.
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