Desmond Mallikarachchi, Former Head, Philosophy Department, University of Peradeniya · who also taught German and French philosophies at Peradeniya following retirement and film and aesthetics, film theory and ideology at the University of Kelaniya turned 81 as I write, i.e. on the 18th of June, 2025.
I was not his student in a formal sense for my subjects in the Faculty of Arts in my first year were Pure Mathematics, English and Sociology. I read Sociology thereafter for a special degree which was not completed due to the turbulence of the late eighties. Nevertheless, Desmond was a teacher and I a student. Yes, ‘Desmond’ and not ‘Prof Desmond’ or ‘Prof Desmon Mallikarachchi’ or ‘Prof Mallikarachchi’ or ‘Sir,’ although I can’t ever remember addressing him by name or title. In my mind he was and is ‘Desmond.’ Simple.
My first encounter with Desmond was on the 12th of November, 1986, or perhaps a day or two before or after. The occasion was the annual commemoration of W M Weerasuriya who had been shot dead ten years previously. He was the keynote speaker at the event organised by the Dumbara Action Committee. For those too young to know or too old to remember, ‘Dumbara’ refers to the Dumbara Campus of the University of Peradeniya. It was located in Polgolla and was for first year undergraduates of the Arts Faculty and second year students of the same faculty reading for a general degree. Student Councils having been banned, the more politically inclined had decided to set up ‘Action Committees.’ The Dumbara Action Committee was affiliated with that of the Peradeniya University and the action committees of all universities came under the umbrella of the Inter University Student Federation.
Desmond must have said something about Weerasuriya. He must have touched on the political issues of the day. All I remember is Desmond urging students to find, own and speak with their own voices. He stressed, ‘your identity.’
He was not with or for the dominant student group at the time, the JVP-affiliated Socialist Students Union. He was ‘left,’ though. His subject was Marxism and he was a Marxist. It didn’t take too long for me to understand why he was not excited about student politics, even when there came a point where people were scared to say they were opposed to the JVP, not three years after JVPers were embarrassed to say they were. Simply, he read Marx. He was a Marxist scholar. He knew what Marxism was not.
For all this, Desmond did not invite the wrath of students who thought otherwise. He was respected. He was consulted about doctrinal issues. He welcomed one and all, was always sober and always spoke to the point.
I remember attending one of his public lectures in the early nineties in Peradeniya. I don’t remember the exact title, but it was about the purported death of Marxism following the collapse of the Soviet Bloc. The funeral was for Marxism, not Marx, at least in the right-wing press which of course dominated the media at the time. Desmond criticised those who announced the death of Marxism and their ideological preferences as well. He essentially asked and answered the following question: ‘Marx va maranna hadanne kavuda saha ai (Who wants to kill Marx and why)?
A question was put to him after he delivered his speech. Actually there were three questions asked in Sinhala and which could be translated as follows: ‘Is Marx’s death not called for by those who hold a gal-katas to the head of workers to compel them to strike? Is Marx’s death not sought by leftists who opt for coalition politics? Is Marx not being killed by those who have put a full stop to the dialectic following the assassination of Trotsky in 1940?’
There was a pause. Then he answered in a measured tone, again in Sinhala of course: ‘ow, ow saha ow (yes, yes and yes). Thereafter he spoke at length on the wider political spectrum and how the ‘left’ in its error could in word and deed play adjunct to capital and capital interests.
Criticism is easy, and this one learnt without having to attend any classes on political theory. Self-criticism is a different creature altogether. Desmond had the kind of humility that comes from deep and serious reflection on all manner of processes. It can’t be taught, but the possibility of humility and indeed its worth can be taught, not by ‘teaching’ per se but being that kind of individual. Desmond seemed like that. At least to me, in the few chance encounters I’ve had with him.
I haven’t spoken with Desmond in quite a while. Our encounters have been sporadic and random, sometimes somewhere in the Arts Faculty and sometimes somewhere in Kandy. He never taught me so I never expected him to know me. I would introduce myself and he would say ‘of course,’ and speak as though to a friend from a long time ago. Simple.
I don’t remember much of professors and lecturers who didn’t teach me or whose extracurricular work I was not a part of, for example theatre. Names were known. Faces became familiar and then with time less so. Desmond was different. Quiet and self-effacing and yet most certainly a presence in the University of Peradeniya and perhaps elsewhere too, I wouldn’t know.
It would have been good to say ‘hello’ and wish him in person, but I am not like that and he wouldn’t expect such things either. I just happened to see a social media post wishing him. So I shall too, here. Good health, peace of mind, deep reflection and wholesome engagement, as always, Desmond. Happy birthday!
[This article was published in the Daily News under the weekly column title ‘The Recurrent Thursday’]
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