Learning Law with Aid From Colvin R de Silva

A Guy named Talagalla, …  with highlighting imposed by The  Editor, Thuppahi

I am just penning this note after finishing my research for the day, before the thoughts dissipate into the quiet of the evening. The cases I read, the legislation I examined, and the scholarly writings I consulted all converged in my mind, and they brought me back to a lesson I once received from my senior, Mr. D.S. Wijesinghe, President’s Counsel, passed down from his own mentor, Dr. Colvin R. de Silva. The story of how Dr. de Silva engaged with the law has lingered in me for years, and it bears repeating, for stories carry the weight of wisdom in ways instructions never can.

Dr Colvin R de Silva

Mr. Wijesinghe told me that Dr. Colvin R. de Silva, when faced with particularly difficult cases, would immerse himself in the same legislative provision, reading it again and again – sometimes more than a hundred times. He did not read mechanically; he read with curiosity, with intention, with a mind attuned to possibilities. By revisiting a section repeatedly, he would uncover layers of meaning, detect nuances, and discover new perspectives, seeing how a provision could be interpreted in multiple ways, each revealing a different vista for argument and understanding.

Dr. de Silva had insomnia, and as a result, he would wake in the earliest hours of the morning, when the world was quiet and still. In that solitude, he would go through the statutes pertinent to his cases, sometimes turning the enactment upside down, sometimes reading it from near, sometimes from a distance. Each act of reading – each shift in perspective – illuminated the provision differently. What seemed opaque at first could, under careful observation, reveal hidden connections, subtle reasoning, and possibilities for argument that had been invisible. This, Mr. Wijesinghe told me, was the way to confront difficulty in law: read, reflect, and allow the law to speak from every angle.

When I used to teach legal research methodology in Sri Lanka, particularly for postgraduate students, I sought to convey this fascination. Stories, I found, linger in the mind longer than principles. Many of my students knew that I often used songs to illuminate ideas. One song, in particular, captured the very essence of discovery: “සදාකාලික නොවූ ලෝකේ”, sung by Sunil Edirisinghe. A verse resonates still:

“එදා ලඟ සිට දුටුව ඔබ නොව

මෙදා දුර සිට මා දකින්නේ

එදා ලඟ සිට දුටුව ඔබ නොව

මෙදා දුර සිට මා දකින්නේ

සදාකාලික නොවූ ලෝකයෙ

සදා කෙලෙසද පෙම් බඳින්නේ”

These lines speak to perception, to the shifting nature of understanding, and to the way distance, time, and reflection reveal what was once hidden. Just as these lines reflect how love and understanding can change with distance and time, so too does law reveal its layers to those who engage with it deeply. A legislative provision or case that seems opaque at first can, with patient attention, reveal subtle connections, historical currents, and interpretative possibilities.

In law, as in life, what seems absolute or fixed at first glance may transform as we step back, study, and reflect. A statutory provision, a principle, or a case that once appeared rigid can, through patience and repeated attention, disclose new meanings, new avenues, new interpretations. The world of law, like the world sung of in this verse, is not permanent, not singular, not static.

At law school, I once perceived the law as a set of rigid, immutable rules, neatly laid down by lecturers, reinforced by academic writings, confirmed by statutes and case law. Everything seemed fixed, absolute, predetermined. Yet practice, the real-world encounter with law, shattered that illusion. To practice law is to see its breath and flexibility, its subtle interplay with human circumstances, its hidden judgments, and its multiplicity of perspectives. It might be said, therefore, that I truly came to know the law only after I began to practice – only then did abstract principles take on life, revealing nuances I had never seen in the classroom.

This evolving nature of law reminds me of Karl Popper’s philosophy of science: knowledge advances through falsification, through the testing and replacement of principles when confronted with new evidence. Perhaps the same applies to law. Principles evolve, precedents are revisited, interpretations shift. In Sri Lanka, for instance, the understanding of equality before the law under Article 12 of the Constitution in the 1980s differs from its interpretation today. The “initial taking” in Criminal misappropriation, defined one way in the 1970s, evolved differently after the 1990s. Similar dynamics appear in other jurisdictions: the Australian High Court, for example, has addressed the application of international law in different ways over time, reflecting shifts in judicial perspective and interpretative approach. Law is not fixed; it breathes, grows, and transforms through reflection, practice, and perspective.

So, the great wisdom imparted by Mr. Wijesinghe, drawing on Dr. Colvin R. de Silva, is this: the more you read a legislative provision, the more you revisit the same case, the more you reflect on the same academic arguments, the more perspectives emerge. This insight resonates deeply with Buddhism. Everything is impermanent; nothing is fixed. The world, as Lord Buddha observed, is shaped by perception. In law, as in life, understanding is never static. It unfolds as we engage, reflect, and learn to perceive differently.

Ultimately, law is not a set of rigid prescriptions. It is a living, breathing discipline, shaped by attention, imagination, and human engagement. Going through it, like revisiting a piece of music, invites the mind to pause, to explore, and ultimately, to discover perspectives that had previously lain hidden.

The law, like the song, like life itself, is an endless journey of discovery – each reading, each reflection, each practice, each story revealing a new horizon, a new insight, a new way of seeing. And perhaps, that is the most profound lesson: to approach the world and the law with patience, curiosity, and openness is to witness the beauty of perception itself.

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A SPECIAL NOTE  from Michael Roberts

Colvin R was among the Sri Lankan intelligentsia I interviewed and taperecorded  in  the  late 1960s in the course of the Roberts Oral History Project. ,,, And, Yes, one interview at his home at Pendennis Avenue began ataround midnight! 

Visit  the National Library Services Board in Colombo for direct access or contact them or the Special  Collections unit at the Barr Smith Library, Adelaide University  re the manner  in  which  you can access the recorded interviews from your desk via  digital magic………

Director, NLSB = sunilnldsb@gmail.com

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colvin_R._de_Silva

Colvin Reginald de Silva (1907 – 27 February 1989;^[1] commonly known as Colvin R. de Silva) was a Sri Lankan Cabinet Minister of Plantation Industries and Constitutional Affairs, prominent member of parliament, Trotskyist leader and lawyer in Sri Lanka. He was one of the founders of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party, the first Marxist party in Sri Lanka.

Colvin R. de Silva was born in Balapitiya. His father Obinamuni Arnolis de Silva, was a registered medical practitioner attached to the Department of Health. His mother Pettagan Joseline De Silva was a daughter of a business tycoon Pettagan Aseneris De Silva, His elder brother was Walwin de Silva, a civil servant.

He received his education at St. John’s College, Panadura and at Royal College, Colombo where he won colours. He thereafter studied history at University College, Ceylon, gaining a BA from the University of London and went on to gain his PhD from King’s College London in 1932 for his thesis: Ceylon Under the British Occupation, later published as a book.

On his return to Ceylon, Colvin R. de Silva took oaths as an advocate of the Supreme Court of Ceylon and started his practice as a lawyer. He gained fame in the writ of Habeas Corpus related to Mark Anthony Bracegirdle, where he appeared for Bracegirdle as junior of H.V. Perera. From 1940s to 1960s Colvin R. de Silva enjoyed an unparalleled reputation as a criminal lawyer of great distinction. He appeared in virtually every high-profile criminal trial of his day. In the Sathasivam murder case, his exceptionally brilliant cross-examining skills resulted in the acquittal of his client, while in the Kularatne murder case appeal, it was his intimate knowledge of the law of circumstantial evidence that saved the accused. With the advent of Fundamental Rights litigation, de Silva also appeared in many such cases before the Supreme Court, most notably in the Vivienne Goonewardena assault case. He continued his legal practice until his death, with the exception of when he was serving as a minister.^[2]

Colvin R. de Silva became the first president of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party when it was established on 21 December 1935 at Lorenz College Hall, along with Dr. N.M. Perera, Leslie Goonewardene, Philip Gunawardena and Robert Gunawardena.

An active Trotskyist, during the Second World War he fled to India, after escaping from Bogambara Prison, where he had been imprisoned on charges of sedition for anti-war activities. In India he became part of the leading nucleus of the Bolshevik-Leninist Party of India, Ceylon and Burma (BLPI). After the war he returned to Ceylon and became the main leader of the Bolshevik Samasamaja Party (BSP).

In 1947 he was one of five BSP candidates who were elected to parliament. His constituency was Wellawatte-Galkissa. After the reunification of LSSP and BSP, de Silva became an important leader of LSSP.

In 1952 he lost the Wellawatte-Galkissa seat to the United National Party candidate, S. de Silva Jayasinghe due to the unpopularity he gained for his role in the Sathasivam murder case, but regained it at the subsequent parliamentary elections in 1956. During the passing of the Sinhala Only Act, he spoke his famous last words: “Do we… want a single nation or do we want two nations? Do we want a single state or do we want two? Do we want one Ceylon or do we want two? And above all, do we want an independent Ceylon which must necessarily be united and single and single Ceylon, or two bleeding halves of Ceylon which can be gobbled up by every ravaging imperialist monster that may happen to range the Indian ocean? These are issues that in fact we have been discussing under the form and appearance of language issue.” His predictions came true a few years later with the formation of Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) and subsequent civil war between the LTTE separatist movement and the Sri Lankan government.^[3]

De Silva was responsible on behalf of LSSP for the liaisons with the Fourth International. He was elected to the International Executive Committee of the International, a position he held until the LSSP was expelled from the International.

In 1964 de Silva had urged against the LSSP joining the government, but unlike others who stood by that line he stayed in the party.

He won the Agalawatte parliamentary seat in a by-election in 1967 and in 1970. In 1970 he became the Minister of Plantation Industries and Constitutional Affairs in the cabinet of Sirimavo Bandaranaike. His tasks included drafting the new republican constitution of Sri Lanka, which is seen by Kumari Jayawardena as the first constitutional enshrinement of Sinhala chauvinism which had previously been limited to statute law. He served until 1975, when his party was dismissed from government following a split. He lost his seat at the 1977 parliament elections along with all the leftists who contested.

After the death of Dr. N. M. Perera the LSSP leader, Colvin de Silva became the leader and the party nominated de Silva as its presidential candidate in 1982. He finished 5th and only polled around 1% of the votes cast, as the election was polarised between the ruling United National Party and the Sri Lanka Freedom Party, the latter being backed by almost all the other left parties. In 1987 he led a protest against the ban on May Day rallies in Sri Lanka and suffered a serious burn injury on one of his feet due to a tear gas cartridge that was thrown at the protesters by the police, which troubled him till his death. In 1988, his party came to an alliance with three other leftist parties to form United Socialist Alliance (USA) from which he was nominated as a national list member of parliament (MP).^{[citation needed]}

He died a few days prior to taking his oath as an MP under new alliance on 27 February 1989 in Colombo. Union Place, Colombo was named after him.

Colvin R. de Silva married Pettagan Suvineetha De Silva from his home town of Balapitiya. She was the daughter of Pettagan Benial De Silva, a businessman. They had two daughters and one son. All their children took to law with both daughters becoming barristers. Their eldest Manouri Muttetuwegama was a former Commissioner of the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka and was married to Sarath Muttetuwegama, Communist Party member of Parliament. Their youngest was Nalina and their only son was Nalina Visvajith. The family lived down Abdul Gafoor Mawatha in Colpetty.^[4][5] He was a cousin of Charles Percival de Silva.

• De Silva, Colvin R., Ceylon Under the British Occupation, 1795–1833 First published 1941. Reprint: Delhi, Vedam Books, 1995
• De Silva, Colvin R., An Outline of the Permanent Revolution

• Colvin R De Silva in Sinhala
• Official Website of Lanka Sama Samaja Party (LSSP)^[usurped]
• Colvin R. de Silva: undying legend
• Hartal!, article by de Silva from 1953
• New York Times Obituary
• Amara Samara in Sinhala