Merry-Go-Round: The Ceylon Press History of Sri Lanka 8

If ever there was a king who was entitled to get very cross indeed, it was Dutugemunu, one of the island’s standout sovereigns. Known, not unjustifiably as “The Great,” Dutugemunu was to rescue his car crash of a dynasty, only to watch it (albeit from the life thereafter) speed off the proverbial royal road yet again, and with such casual ingratitude as to make common cause with Mark Twain - “if you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and man”. In the hundred years preceding Dutugemunu's ascension to the throne, the dynasty had been dethroned twice. In the following hundred years they were to do it once more, this time with much greater injury to the state. Stability is rarely the embodiment of absolute monarchies, and Sri Lanka suffered more than most from almost institutionalised political volatility, as if, just below the surface of the realm, with the constant rumbling and tremors of a gathering earthquake, yet another government eruption was making itself ready. Instability haunted most of the dozen or so kings who succeeded Dutugemunu. Five were rogue invaders from Tamil India; at least two were fated to be murdered by their scheming successors; and most of the rest reigned as if having signed up for a farce. Only Dutugemunu and his later nephew, Valagamba, the Comeback King, were to move the kingdom progressively onwards. For the rest, it was as if a life-changing ennui had floated into the palace throne room, a debilitating cloud that left every monarch much like Phil and Ralph in “Groundhog Day: Phil: "What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was the same and nothing that you did mattered?" Ralph: "That about sums it up for me." Had he had any presentiment of what was to come, it is probable that even Dutugemunu, so famously proactive as to make a Long-life Battery appear idle, would have chucked in his chips and moved on. But thankfully, no plot-spoiling deity, soothsayer, or psychic was to interrupt his indomitable spirit, and for a glorious moment, it seemed as if the Vijayan good times had returned. The lucky dynasty was back in business. Although history has been reluctant to tell us Dutugemunu's height, he was probably short, for if ever a leader existed with the Napoleon Syndrome, it was this man, whose nature, evident from the many myths and tales of his childhood, was naturally geared to dominate and control. “Growing duly, Gamani came to sixteen years, vigorous, renowned, intelligent and a hero in majesty and might,” reported The Mahavamsa, with an almost palpable sense of relief and thanksgiving. Dutugemunu's path to the ruler of Lanka was far from straightforward, coming as he did from a lesser twig of the Vijayan family tree. Despite these disadvantages, Dutugemunu famously navigated an obstacle course of family hurdles intended to arrest his monarchical ambitions. He even made a point of conquering the many mini-Tamil fiefdoms that had sprung up around and possibly within the Rajarata during Ellara's reign – a far from straightforward task as the four-month siege of Vijitanagara illustrated. Here, having to calm his panicking elephants amid incessant Tamil attacks using “red-hot iron and molten pitch,” it was evident that the campaign was no walkover, but one that required planning and determination to ensure victory. But the triumph was ultimately his. Power was consolidated, and his final victory over Ellara in 161 BCE left him ruling nearly the whole of the island, more territory by far than even that of the great king, Pandu Kabhaya. And as if to confirm the return of Vijayan order, the construction of more buildings commenced. Anuradhapura expanded exponentially, with its infrastructure, utilities, and water resources so upgraded as to ensure it would flourish for centuries to come, the longest-surviving capital city of the Indian subcontinent. Still more spectacular was the building of many more of what would become its most venerated celebrity structures. A large monastery, the Maricavatti, was erected, together with a nine-story chapter house for monks, with a bright copper-tiled roof; and most famous of all, what is today called the Ruwanweliseya, the Great Stupa, which housed Buddha’s begging bowl. The building programme was not restricted to the capital alone – eighty-nine other temples are said to have been constructed, along with hospitals and smaller tanks, in different parts of the kingdom. The kingdom was return to order – precisely the kind of order that Megasthenes, the Greek historian based in India had noted just a hundred years earlier, relishing, with a commercial leer, the kingdom’s “palm-groves, where the trees are planted with wonderful regularity all in a row, in the way we see the keepers of pleasure parks plant out shady trees in the choicest spots;” and how the island was ...