The death of a first born

by Ajith Samaranayake
The untimely death of Kithsiri Nimal Shantha,
the editor of the 'Lakbima' daily newspaper at
the heart-wrenchingly early age of 46 has sent
shock waves through the journalistic fraternity.
Naturally most of the tributes paid to him under
these circumstances have assumed the quality
of elegy but if we are to do justice to this young
newspaper editor (the first among our
Kithsiri Nimal
generation of newspaper editors to die) we
Shantha
have to assess his contribution against not
merely the state of the profession today but also the political,
social and cultural circumstances of our times.
The cardinal fact here is that the 'Lakbima' is only 20 months
old still and Kithsiri's contribution has necessarily to be
framed within this brief span. However this period brief
though it is spanned one of the most crucial times in recent
history extending from the conclusion of the 1999
Presidential Election to the last General Election and the
sense of judgement with which Kithsiri proceeded to carry
out his work during this time is the measure of the loss which
we have sustained.
Kithsiri Nimal Shantha belonged to the post-1956 generation
of young men and women who were immensely excited by
the intellectual and cultural currents of that eventful period in
Sri Lanka's history.
Born in 1956 and educated at Mahinda College, Galle Kithsiri
had a privileged ring-side view of left-of-centre politics. His
father N. M. Nimal Shantha, a man of some means, was for

long the Chairman of the Kodagoda Village Council in the

Habaraduwa electorate and at the time of his own untimely
death in 1976 the SLFP organiser for the electorate.
Apart from this youthful political immersion Kithsiri was also
no doubt inspired to take to journalism by the very magic
which was in the air for Koggala in the Habaraduwa
electorate was home to many giants of journalism and letters
such as Pandit Dharmaratne, Martin Wickremesinghe and in
our own times Arisen Ahubudu, that mellifluous 'Hela' poet.
In fact the oldest extant Sinhala printing press is to be found
in a temple in Kataluwa.
All this doubtless had a hand in making Kithsiri decide to
throw up a promising career at the People's Bank and take to
the pen.
Though small in stature the bearded Nimal Shantha was
destined to do big things in Sinhala publishing. His first
venture into journalism was through a mini-size tabloid
newspaper 'Irida' published by Multipacks. This was the time
that next door at Bloemendhal Road, Upali Wijewardene had
begun to take on the Goliaths of politics by launching his
path-breaking 'Divaina' and 'The Island' newspapers.
All three papers which were published from that sleazy
Kotahena Road were soon been talked about. What was
perceived to be the anti-Anura Bandaranaike slant of the
'Irida' made the irrepressible Mervyn de Silva put into the
mouth of the portly SLFP leader a perhaps apocryphal line.
Commenting on his standing in the various newspapers of
the time Anura is supposed to have said 'Never on a Sunday!'
Like some of the ventures of the mercurial Haris Hulugalle
'Irida' soon folded up but the young editor and his band
(which included Jayantha Chandrasiri, one of our most

innovative dramatists and taledrama makers) found a

congenial home next door. It was here that for the next 18
years Kithsiri honed his talents and shaped the opinions
which were to take him to the editorial chair of the fledging
'Lakbima'.
At the 'Divaina' Kithsiri rose to be Features Editor and Deputy
Editor with virtual control of the daily newspaper's opinion
pages. At 'Lakbima' of course he had control of everything
which went into the paper and it was here that the quality of
the journalist in him came out.
Kithsiri had never been a reporter as such but working
without a proper news editor in the early stages of the
'Lakbima' he placed his stamp on all departments of the
paper.
This was no easy task for a Sinhala daily newspaper during
one of the most turbulent times in contemporary history with
enough and more parties, lobbies and interest groups waiting
in the wings to cry foul and rush with protest and injunction
to the press, Press Council and Supreme Court.
As an editor Kithsiri was keen to uphold one of the cardinal
principles of journalism and make his paper into a platform
for ideas. While he gave free play to political opinion he was
even more keen on giving the widest exposure possible to
the arts, literature and culture.
Coming from a post-1956 generation he felt acutely the loss
caused by the paucity of English knowledge among this
group and he sought through the means of persons such as
Hemaratne Liyanarachchi, the recently retired head of the
department of English at the Peradeniya Teachers' Training
Institute, to bring to the Sinhala reader the best currents of
European literature.

In later years Kithsiri rarely wrote under his name but he

wrote the editorials in the 'Divaina' and of course the
'Lakbima' and was among the best stylists of his times.
Although no purist in the pejorative sense of that word he
valued the prose of Munidasa Kumaratunga and sought to
uphold the purity of the language as language. He could be
both trenchant and lyrical and as an editorialist it would be
no exaggeration to say that he was reaching the heights of a
B. A. Siriwardena (of 'Aththa' fame) at the time of his
unexpected death.
Like all newspaper editors Kithsiri also had his partialities.
Being a Sinhala newspaper he naturally situated the
'Lakbima' at the Sinhala centre (perhaps in competition with
the 'Divaina') but was careful to give it an underpinning of
cartoonalist ideology. He also took the paper enough to the
left so that Patali Champika Ranawaka, Dayan Jayatillake and
Gunadasa Amarasekera all found a forum in its hospitable
pages.
Any assessment of a newspaper editor has, of course, to take
account of his relationship with his owners, whether state or
private.
Kithsiri worked for a private newspaper owned by the
Sumathipala family which had ventured into big-time
newspaper publishing after the success of a stable of light
newspapers. Kithsiri therefore had to balance the interests of
his proprietors with his own views on life and politics but
there is every indication that he made a job of it
demonstrating a remarkable maturity which belied his years.
Not even many of those who knew him closely knew that
Kithsiri had a heart condition. For one so young he was not
only afflicted with a heart ailment but was wearing a pace-

maker. Perhaps in this situation it was wrong for him to

break himself on the wheel of his newspaper but that too was
the measure of the journalist in him.
Kithsiri's love affair with newspapers was the shaping
influence of his life and he died as he lived with the whiff of
newsprint on his breath.