FOOTPRINTS ON WATER
Experiences of a British Civil Servant in
Colonial Sri Lanka
Nimesha Thiwankara Senevipala (SLAS)
Over the past two centuries, Sri Lanka has endured a deeply troubling history of racism. Prior to the 19th century, the concept of ‘racism’ was largely foreign to the nation. However, the British colonial ambitions, particularly their efforts to subdue the Kandyan Kingdom, planted the seeds of racial division. The British deliberately sought to turn Sinhalese chiefs and Buddhist monks against the Nayakkar dynasty, which had ruled peacefully for centuries with the support of the Sinhalese-Buddhist community. To achieve this, the British manipulated local chiefs like Pilimathalawa and Ahelepola, fostering opposition against the Dravidian (Nayakkar) rulers in the upland provinces. Their conspiracy to incite ethnic discord succeeded, leading to the eventual subjugation of the entire island under British rule, and marking the end of over two thousand years of Sri Lankan independence.
However,
the flames of racism were not extinguished. By 1870, the British government
further inflamed ethnic tensions by inciting animosity towards the Muslim
community residing in Colombo and its suburbs. That year saw the outbreak of
the first recorded Sinhalese-Muslim riot in the area between Colombo and
Moratuwa. This incident, detailed in the book Marakkala Hatana, involved a
conflict that initially stemmed from a personal matter – a love affair between
Sellanchiappu, a Sinhala-Catholic youth from Moratuwa, and Minachchi, a girl of
Muslim-Tamil descent. This private affair was manipulated by certain European
radicals, escalating into a significant ethnic riot. Although the violence was
limited to Colombo and Moratuwa, the resulting ethnic mistrust and tension
lingered for many years.
The
most devastating ethnic conflict of the 20th century occurred nearly forty
years later, in 1915. What began as localized unrest around Kandy and Gampola
quickly spread to Colombo, resulting in widespread violence and long-lasting
scars on the nation. The tragic events of 1915, often discussed in numerous
historical treatises, left an enduring wound that continues to haunt the
country. As many scholars have extensively analyzed this dark chapter, I will
refrain from repeating those details here.
When
we were young, we lived in our ancestral house in the town of Gampola, a
property inherited from our father’s side of the family. Mornings often began
with the sound of prayers from a nearby mosque, the same mosque that would
later become a focal point in the 1915 Sinhalese-Muslim riots. Not far from
Gampola, in the village of Vallahagoda, stands a centuries-old Kataragama Devalaya,
which holds an annual procession. This procession follows Ambagamuwa Road,
which passes directly in front of the aforementioned mosque. One of the causes
of the 1915 riots was an order to silence this long-standing religious
procession as it passed by the newly built mosque.
A similar conflict arose near a mosque in Kandy, where tensions flared over an incident involving a Buddhist carol cart. At the same time, false rumors spread that a group of Muslims was marching from Colombo to attack the Dalada Maligawa (Temple of the Sacred Tooth Relic) in Kandy. These events, compounded by misinformation and escalating tensions, culminated in a tragic episode, leaving behind a painful chapter in our history. More than 116 Sinhalese and Muslims lost their lives, marking a dark and indelible stain on the nation’s past.
When I
was young, I heard these stories from my grandmother, Jessie White. She was
born to a British father and a Sinhalese mother, and educated in a Catholic
convent adjacent to the mosque involved in the events of 1915. The
Sinhala-Muslim riots were often discussed with great enthusiasm by those around
her. As I listened to these accounts, one question continually came to mind:
Why couldn’t we, the Sinhalese – people belonging to one of the
oldest and most sophisticated civilizations in this country
– maintain
silence for a moment out of respect for another religious belief? How different
would history have been if the true values of the Buddha’s universal teachings
had become more deeply ingrained in our culture? These questions, unanswered,
remain with me to this day.
We now
turn our attention to the book Footprints on Water, which contains the notes of Mr. W. T. Stace,
who served as the Kandy Police Magistrate during the 1915 racial riots. Prior
to his appointment in Kandy, Mr. Stace held the position of Police Magistrate
in Gampola, giving him a unique perspective on the events leading up to and
during this period of unrest. His observations provide valuable insight into
the administrative and social conditions of the time, shedding light on the
complexities surrounding the riot.
I
possess numerous books written by civil and military officers who served in Sri
Lanka during the British era, yet I had never come across Footprints on the
Water before. This is indeed a recent discovery, as the manuscript, which
remained unpublished for several decades, has now been edited and published for
the first time by Bernd Pflug. The rarity of this work adds to its
significance, offering fresh perspectives on a pivotal moment in Sri Lankan
history. The practice of writing autobiographies and maintaining diaries to
record personal experiences has long been a tradition among civil service
officers, dating back to ancient times. This historical custom is echoed in Mr.
W. T. Stace’s autobiography, as presented by Bernd Pflug, which serves as a
reflection of that enduring legacy.
Mr.
Walter Terence Stace was more than just a British civil servant; his
international reputation extended across multiple fields. Renowned as a
philosopher, educator, and influential thought leader, Mr. Stace served in
various parts of Sri Lanka from 1910 to 1932 as a representative of the British
Civil Service. His contributions in these diverse roles have earned him lasting
recognition on a global scale. A few weeks ago, I was gifted the book Footprints on Water,
edited by Bernd and written by a distinguished intellectual about his
professional experiences, by its publisher, Sam Perera.
During
the reign of the British monarchy, colonial administration was structured on
two primary pillars: civil administration and military governance. In the early
years of administering Asiatic colonies, officers from the esteemed British
civil service were appointed to govern these territories directly. However, as
the colonial system evolved, distinct civil services were established for each
colony. For example, the Indian Civil Service was founded in 1858, while the
Ceylon Civil Service was instituted in 1833. Similar administrative frameworks
were also established in other Asian territories, such as Malaysia and Hong
Kong.
Our
speaker, Mr. Stace, joined the Ceylon Civil Service following the completion of
his higher education, at a time when the service was known for its
distinguished officers. However, he initially showed little enthusiasm for
civil administration, as it was a career path that differed significantly from
his academic background and intellectual interests. He reflects on his early
regrets regarding his choice of the field of ‘administration’, which, in his
view, lacked the intellectual allure of subjects he cherished, such as
philosophy and literature. These feelings were particularly pronounced during
his tenure at his first posting, the Galle Kachcheri.
Mr.
Stace’s document offers valuable insights into the level of knowledge and
qualifications of officers selected for the civil service in the early
twentieth century. As a member of the Sri Lanka Administrative Service, the
successor to the Sri Lankan Civil Service, I find it fitting to raise a
critical issue that arises from this analysis. The question that naturally
emerges is: in what direction is the current and future civil service, which
inherits such a significant legacy, headed? This reflection invites a deeper
examination of how the values, standards, and practices of the past continue to
shape or challenge the evolution of the civil service today and in the years to
come. Many early civil service officers were distinguished polymaths, excelling
in a wide range of academic disciplines. The service was enriched by diverse
fields such as history, classical languages, sociology, archaeology, and
geography. Mr. Stace is no exception to this tradition. He is a scholar of
philosophy and education, someone who has contributed to the development of new
knowledge in these areas. His intellectual breadth reflects the deep academic
engagement that characterized the civil service during its formative years,
underscoring the profound intersection between administrative duties and
scholarly pursuits.
Most
novice civil administration officers share a common experience: they truly
begin to learn their responsibilities only after reporting to their first duty
station. It is rare for apprentices to receive significant support from senior
officers during this initial period. This situation, common even today,
similarly affected Mr. Stace. He relied on one of his subordinates to gain
practical knowledge of his duties. Unfortunately, Mr. Lushington, the
government agent in Galle, appears to have provided little assistance during
this critical learning phase.
Mr.
Stace’s first salary as an apprentice officer was a mere three hundred rupees
per month, equivalent to around $60 at the 1964 exchange rate. Remarkably, by
2024, this figure has only tripled. In his writings, Mr. Stace also highlights
the deep-seated issues of racism and discrimination among British officials of
the time. He recounts various forms of harassment endured by novice officers,
exacerbated by the lack of privacy and the rigid bureaucratic hierarchy that
dominated the administrative system. These, he notes, are persistent problems
that remain unresolved even today.
After
completing his duty in Galle, Mr. Stace was transferred to Chilaw as a Police
Magistrate. During this time, he developed a deep appreciation for the region’s
rich ethnic diversity. His commentaries on Chilaw, its community, and its
cultural diversity are regarded as significant sources of insight. It was
during this period that Mr. Stace broadened his focus to include the study of
Buddhist philosophy and its followers, along with those practicing Catholic,
Islam, and Hindu religious traditions. He notes:
“How is
one to explain, in the light of this pessimism in theory, why the Ceylon
Buddhists in practice are very happy people while the Hindus tend to be morose?
Perhaps it is an example of the truth that the ordinary human feelings and
attitudes of people all over the world, to whatever religion they belong, are
but little influenced by the creeds they profess save perhaps a few saints.”
(p.71)
I am
reminded of a passage from John Walters’ book ‘The Mind Unshaken’ (1971).
During his first visit to a Buddhist temple in Burma, Walters observed monks
who conducted themselves with remarkable calmness and restraint. He remarked
that such serenity was seldom seen in the white-robed priests at a Christian
altar. Additionally, upon witnessing the joyful faces of children running and
playing within the temple grounds, Walters expressed his surprise at finding
such happiness among the followers of a philosophy that many outside the faith
view as universally pessimistic. Another troubling question arises for me as a
Buddhist: Why is it that we, who are born into Buddhism, often struggle to
attain the sense of peace and comfort that is so readily recognized by those
outside of religion? Whose fault is this?
After
his tenure in Chilaw, Mr. Stace was transferred to Gampola as a Police
Magistrate. Following a brief period there, he was appointed to the same
position in Kandy. In his writings, he includes a brief note on the elephant
kraals organized periodically by the Rate Mahatmayā. He observes that the
prestige of a Rate Mahatmayā was often measured by the number of tame elephants
in his possession. It was in Kandy, however, that Mr. Stace encountered the
most significant experiences of his colonial administrative career.
“One
night I was awakened from my sleep by a Police constable bringing an urgent
message. The city was in an uproar. Riots had broken out all over the town, and
it was my duty to take charge of the situation.” (p.87)
When
the serious riot erupted, the government agent was absent from the city. Managing
the suppression of riots did not fall under the official duties of the District
Judge, leaving the responsibility to Mr. Stace to defuse the volatile
situation. A group of about seven hundred Sinhalese, agitated by provocations
from the Muslim community, gathered near the Queen’s Hotel in Kandy. Initially,
the crowd remained quiet and relatively calm, but the police were on high
alert, prepared for any escalation.
Mr.
Stace observed that, in addition to ethnic tensions, anti-colonial sentiments
were beginning to surface during the unrest. The Superintendent of Police
repeatedly requested permission to open fire and disperse the Sinhalese crowd.
However, Mr. Stace, concerned about the potential harm to those staying at the
nearby Queen’s Hotel, refrained from granting such permission. Instead, he
addressed the crowd, warning them that if they did not disperse peacefully,
they would be shot. His words had the desired effect, and the crowd dispersed
without incident. Unfortunately, despite this initial success, riots had
already begun to break out in other parts of the city.
The
riot continued throughout the night, but Mr. Stace notes that he never gave the
order for anyone to be shot. Once the unrest had subsided, Governor Robert
Chalmers appointed a commission to investigate the incident. Rev. Fraser, a
schoolmaster, was called before the commission to review Mr. Stace’s actions
during the riots. Mr. Stace recorded the intriguing dialogues that took place
during the inquiry, shedding light on the scrutiny he faced regarding his
decisions in handling the tense situation.
“Pagden
(a member of the commission): What would have happened if Mr. Stace had ordered
the police to fire?
Fraser:
Mr. Stace would have been dismissed from the Government Service!” (p.91)
Abovementioned
Fraser must be Rev. A. G. Fraser, a distinguished educator who served at
Trinity College in Kandy. The tumultuous riot eventually subsided, albeit after
significant casualties. During this turbulent time, Mr. Stace rekindled his
interest in academic pursuits, leading him to write the treatise ‘Buddhism and
Western Thoughts’ (1914), which was subsequently published by the Times of
Ceylon Company, Colombo. This scholarly work significantly benefited Mr. Stace,
as it fostered goodwill and strong relations with Governor Robert Chalmers, a
genuine scholar of Oriental languages, particularly Pali. As a result of this
connection, Mr. Stace took on the responsibilities of the Governor’s private
secretary. His close relationship with Governor Chalmers, who had also served
as a civil servant, enabled Mr. Stace to gather significant insights about him,
allowing for a comprehensive description of Chalmers’s background. Notably,
Chalmers held the prestigious position of Secretary of the Treasury to Her
Majesty the Queen, making him one of Britain’s highest-ranking Civil Service
position.
Mr.
Stace provides the following commentary on the Governor’s views concerning Sri
Lankan society.
“It
cannot be said that he had any real interest in the people of Cylon, Buddhist
or Hindu, Sinhalese or Tamil. He generally spoke of Sinhalese, with a sort of
kindly contempt, as the flat-footers.” (p.98)
I
believe Mr. Stace’s interpretation is closely linked to the firmness and
rigidity he exhibited during the 1915 Sinhala – Muslim riots. However, it is
essential to approach this topic with careful consideration and thorough
discussion. However, I would like to draw your attention to the following quote
in particular, which I urge you to carefully consider.
“On
the top of these negative conditions came the positive disaster of the riots.
To Charmers fell the unpopular task of suppressing them by military force, and
of throwing into jail the apparent leaders, many of whom were very prominent
men. He claimed in conversation with me that he had “put down the riots with
rose-water”. This may have been true in comparison with the very savage and
cruel methods of repression with other rulers might have adopted.” (p.99)
Mr.
Stace adopts a more nuanced and balanced perspective on the riot and its
aftermath. He subtly critiques the government’s extreme measures, expressing
disapproval of the role the Muslim community played throughout the events.
“The
Morren undoubtedly made use of fabricated evidence to ruin those whom they
hated. On such occasions of public confusion and terror the innocent suffer
with the guilty. Neither Charmers nor anyone else could have prevented this.”
(p.100)
Mr.
Stace provides valuable insights into the Governor’s role in suppressing the
riot, revealing details likely due not only to his position as the Governor’s
private secretary but also his involvement as a discerning civil servant. It
becomes clear that Mr. Stace conducted an in-depth study of Robert Chalmers’
decision-making and intellectual brilliance. After Chalmers was recalled to
England, R. E. Stubbs (December 1915 – April 1916) briefly succeeded him as
Governor of Ceylon, and during that time, Mr. Stace also had the opportunity to
serve as his private secretary.
Mr.
Stace began his tenure as Chief Censor in the Department of Census, where he
had the opportunity to engage with the philosopher Krishnamurti at the
residence of Frei, a prominent Theosophist. At the time, Krishnamurti, viewed
by many as a spiritual savior, was a young man, and their discussions delved
into profound philosophical debates, particularly the distinction between the
spiritual and the physical. Stace also contributed to intellectual discourse in
Sri Lanka by promoting discussions on Greek philosophy and history.
During
his time as District Judge of Negombo, Stace reflects on significant personal
developments that shaped his perspective. He later served in the Land
Settlement Department, where he navigated complex legal frameworks, applying
Roman Dutch law, English law, and the traditional laws of the Kandyan monarchy.
His writings provide valuable insights into the challenges of administering
land under the Crown Lands Ordinance (1840) as well as, Waste Lands Ordinance and
highlight the acute “land deprivation” experienced by the local population.
These observations offer critical perspectives for scholars exploring the
socio-economic and legal dynamics of colonial Sri Lanka.
Mr.
Stace’s official career was indeed dynamic, extending beyond administrative
duties to include political roles as Mayor and Chairman of the Colombo
Municipal Council. Notably, in its early days, the Mayorship was not a partisan
political position but rather a role with significant independent authority,
rooted in the British Westminster tradition. Over time, it transformed into a
position reflecting party politics due to evolving political dynamics.
If
any Sri Lankan civil servant uniquely exercised political authority
independently of the Governor while remaining accountable to the Governor’s
directives, Mr. Stace stands as a prime example. This duality in his roles
highlights the complexity of navigating governance under colonial
administrative structures.
“The
Mayor in those days had no city manager to attend to business while he took his
ease. He had to do all the work himself and doing it was a full-time job, He
would have to give orders on perhaps
hundreds pf matters every week. These questions and his orders were briefly
summerized in a printed agenda which was submitted to the monthly meeting of
the council for approval.” (p.139)
Mahatma
Gandhi’s visit to Sri Lanka (1927) coincided with Mr. Stace’s tenure as Mayor
of Colombo. In his writings, Mr. Stace reflects on Gandhi’s visit to the
Colombo Municipal Council and the preparations undertaken for this historic
event. His account serves as a valuable primary source for researchers
exploring Gandhi’s 1927 visit to Sri Lanka.
In
2017, I had the privilege of meeting Mrs. Ela Gandhi, Mahatma Gandhi’s
granddaughter, at the Phoenix Settlement in Durban, South Africa. During our
conversation, she shared a photo album documenting Gandhi’s visits to Sri
Lanka. Among the photographs, I recall an image of a young Gandhi, standing in
front of the Colombo Municipal Council building—a poignant visual of the early
years of his non-violent activism.
After
serving 22 years in civil service, Mr. Stace resigned in 1832 and traveled to
America with his wife. Driven by a lifelong aspiration, he joined the
prestigious Princeton University, where he taught Philosophy. At the age of 45,
he transitioned from the role of a distinguished British civil servant to that
of an academic in a vastly different cultural and intellectual environment. His
seamless integration into a community of scholars underscores his exceptional
talent and adaptability. This marked the beginning of what can undoubtedly be
considered the golden era of his life, characterized by intellectual
fulfillment and lasting contributions to his field.
“I
had lived as an intellectual among practical people in Ceylon, and now I was to
live as intellectual among intellectuals. My new university collegues naturally
understood me because they valued the same things I value.” (p.142)
In
the next and final chapter of Stace’s autobiography, he discusses the British
colonization of Sri Lanka. Before entering into that general discussion, he
mentions his personal life as follows:
“Thus,
when the new political reforms in Ceylon were announced, I began casting about
for opportunities to enter on an academic life.” (p.143)
During
his 22 years in Sri Lanka, Mr. Stace had the opportunity to work closely with
several British governors, including Robert Chalmers, Acting Governor Stubbs,
and others. Throughout his tenure, he was stationed in various regions of Sri
Lanka, confronting complex social and political challenges. As was customary
for many British civil servants, Mr. Stace later authored his autobiography,
blending his official experiences with personal anecdotes. The recently
published biography, edited by Bernd Pflug, is primarily focused on Mr. Stace’s
time in Sri Lanka and is specifically focused to the Sri Lankan audience. As a
result, it does not provide insight into his later academic experiences at
Princeton University, which were a significant chapter of his life.
The
reader will also benefit from the extensive analysis written by the editor,
Bernd Pflug, which delves into the life of Mr. Stace – a figure who was both a
civil servant and a philosopher – and offers insightful commentary on this
autobiography as well as other scholarly works. While my perspective on Mr.
Stace’s experiences has been summarized in a few pages, Bernd’s analysis
provides an alternative, more detailed interpretation. Therefore, I encourage
you to read this fascinating autobiography and make space for it on your
bookshelf, as it offers a rich and multifaceted account of a remarkable
individual.



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