Daily Mirror (Sri Lanka)

From Dutch Ceylon to British Ceylon

The third of four articles; outlines from an upcoming book

- UDAKDEV1@GMAIL.COM By Uditha Devapriya

While the Dutch oversaw education in their territorie­s, the education of locals in the rest of the country continued to be overseen by Buddhist monks and, in the early period of Dutch occupation, from the time of Rajasinghe II to that of the Nayakkars, Catholic priests (especially the Oratorians, led by Joseph Vaz and Jacome Gonsalves)

Arrival of missionary bodies, starting with the Baptists in 1812 was followed by the setting up of private schools which, while not patronised by the State, were allowed to grow by it

Unlike the Catholic Church, which as Abeyasingh­e notes managed to drain the coffers of the Portuguese administra­tion, the Protestant Church was more often than not “lorded over” by Dutch officials: an ironic reversal of fortune that only added to the woes of Protestant­s

The Dutch clergyman was seen as a State official, with the result that Dutch schools, in spite of their emphasis on religious instructio­n and training, became secular enclaves: in 1760 at the

Dutch Seminary, for instance, preparing youth for the ministry was discourage­d. Attempts to impose Protestant­ism on locals gradually failed: Jacob Haafner,a German in the pay of the Dutch Company residing in Galle, wrote in 1780 that inhabitant­s knew little of Christiani­ty: “Save to make the sign of the Cross and to mutter a prayer.”

Paul E. Pieris, writing on the state of Christiani­ty under the Portuguese, made roughly the same observatio­n: knowledge of Christiani­ty “consisted of little more than the capacity to say a few prayers, and to make the sign of the Cross.” The emphasis on committing to memory had clearly drained both Catholic and Protestant churches of a faithful flock.

On the other hand, Roman Catholics prospered over Protestant­s in the Dutch era: the former expended their efforts through “volunteer enthusiasm,” their preachers could converse in Sinhala and Tamil (while only a few Dutch

predikants, tasked with converting and educating the population, could), and the administra­tion, being a commercial concern, was not willing to spend huge sums of money for the sake of missionari­es. In fact, unlike the Catholic Church, which as Abeyasingh­e notes managed to drain the coffers of the Portuguese administra­tion, the Protestant Church was more often than not “lorded over” by Dutch officials: an ironic reversal of fortune that only added to the woes of Protestant­s.

The Catholics resorted to whatever means to maintain their flock. Records have been made of priests going as far as exorcising locusts and beetles “that damaged coconut trees in Puttalam and Kalpitiya.”

Such practices were rampant elsewhere too, when priests sought to legitimise their faith by resorting to pagan customs like speaking in tongues and miracle healing. In the early 17th century, for instance, we hear of one Father de

Nobile, who in Madurai presented “Christiani­ty in terms of Brahmanic Hinduism,” and in later years we hear of Jesuits in China “who tried to combat Buddhism by adapting Christiani­ty to Confuciani­sm.”

In the meantime, while the Dutch oversaw education in their territorie­s, the education of locals in the rest of the country continued to be overseen by Buddhist monks and, in the early period of Dutch occupation, from the time of Rajasinghe II to that of the Nayakkars, Catholic priests (especially the Oratorians, led by Joseph Vaz and Jacome Gonsalves).

The relationsh­ip between

kanda uda pas rata and the Dutch administra­tion was at best ambivalent and at worst strenuous: whenever the cinnamon peelers (chalias) went on strike, for example, they would seek refuge in the king’s territorie­s, while for their part the Dutch, scheming to annex those territorie­s, went as far as to offer the use of their vessels for religious missions, including one that proved to be pivotal for the establishm­ent of Siyam Nikaya under Welivita Saranankar­a Thera. It was through Saranankar­a, moreover, that the local education system described in the first essay in this series managed to reach its peak and that because of the Buddhist revival. It would meet its worst nadir, conversely, at the tail end of the Kandyan kingdom in the British era, the era we must now turn to.

In his essay titled ‘The Bugbear of Literacy,’ Ananda

Coomaraswa­my makes a distinctio­n between literacy and culture. In countries where industrial­isation had not been allowed to take place (thanks to colonial economic policies that destroyed local industry), “to impose our literacy... upon a cultured but illiterate people is to destroy their culture in the name of our own.” Colonial era filtration theory, enforced and taken to its logical conclusion along the lines of Macaulay’s Minute of 1835 and the Colebrooke-cameron

Commission, ended up creating a rift between the literate few and the illiterate many: a British official in India, at the height of colonial expansion, gravely lamented the way “English education has destroyed their [the Indians’] love of their own literature... and worst of all, their repose in their own traditiona­l and national religion.” All this, however, is known.

I have previously, in this column, written on the history of colonial era education until 1836. To sum up,

Frederick North the first governor was sufficient­ly impressed with the way the Dutch had maintained parish schools to attempt at reviving them and rehiring parish teachers. When expenditur­es rose well beyond

£5,000, the central administra­tion promptly cut funding by more than half. The added woes of insurrecti­on in Kandy and threat of rebellion deterred North and his successor Brownrigg from concentrat­ing on education.

However, the arrival of missionary bodies, starting with the Baptists in

1812 was followed by the setting up of private schools which, while not patronised by the State, were allowed to grow by it; by 1833, 15 Baptist,

90 Wesleyan, 78 American Mission, and 53 Missionary Society schools had been set up. These denominati­ons controlled more than 46% of schools, in a context where a mere 6% was held by Roman Catholics and 39% by private schools, the latter having “an average of 13 students” and “an attendance of five or six children.”

Catholics resorted to whatever means to maintain their flock Relationsh­ip between ‘kanda uda pas rata’ and the Dutch administra­tion was at best ambivalent and at worst strenuous Roman Catholics prospered over Protestant­s in the Dutch era

In November 1827, three years after the first girls’ boarding school in Asia was establishe­d at Uduvil injaffna, Governor Edward Barnes laid the foundation stone for a Christian institutio­n in Cotta. Its purpose, very obviously, was to train locals for missionary work. The school was officially opened a year later with 15 students. Among the subjects taught were Latin, Greek, mathematic­s, history and Hebrew, with the Bible. In 1831, Reverend Joseph Marsh arrived from Madras, proceeding to head that institutio­n until 1834. Reverend Marsh left the Cotta institutio­n in January 1835 and was made Chaplain of St. Paul’s Church in Colombo; taking from his experience­s at Cotta, he opened a school of his own in Pettah, bordering on Hill Street. The first batch comprised almost entirely of children from Burgher families resident in the area including Richard Morgan and J. Martensz.

The government, in the aftermath of the Colebrooke-cameron Commission, felt the need to establish public schools, since education had been in the hands of missionari­es and private individual­s.

Less than a year after its founding, then, Marsh’s school was turned into a public school (the Colombo Academy), and Marsh was employed as its first principal on an annual salary of around £200 (the equivalent of £22,200 or more than Rs.5 million today). Before its establishm­ent, education was split between three layers: the State, comprising the Academy, three preparator­y schools, and 97 parish schools (the latter of which shutdown in 1832); the missionary, headed by the Baptists, Wesleyans, Americans and Anglicans; and the private, “controlled mainly by individual entreprene­urs,” whose schools, “despite their large number [640 in 1830, as against 97 parish establishm­ents], attracted small enrolments.” In addition to these were two other types: Roman Catholic schools, which also attracted small enrolments, and indigenous schools, which were largely ignored.

The fortunes of government and private schools largely depended on State policy. From 1857 to 1862, the number of government schools rose from 99 to 5,518, that of free schools from 315 to 12,087 and that of aided schools (State funded missionary enclaves) from 15 to 1,424; by contrast, the number of private schools grew from 873 to 5,508. The recommenda­tions of the Morgan Commission, tabled in the same year the British working class won the right to primary schooling (1870), swung the pendulum back to vernacular education, prioritisi­ng elementary education in Sinhala and Tamil and freedom of religion and belief for students of other faiths in Christian missionary schools. In reality and very often, however, the latter was a cosmetic: missionary bodies frequently made use of distance clauses to prevent and pre-empt the establishm­ent of government and, later, Buddhist schools.

The main determinin­g factor, typical for a colonial administra­tion, continued to be economic: at times of depression, fees were raised and vernacular schools closed, and at times of boom the reverse was true; thus in 1840, fees at the Colombo Academy were reduced to around six shillings in response to a spurt in the plantation sector; eight years later, at the height of an economic downturn and a rebellion, they were raised to £1; following the coffee crash of the 1870s, they were raised even more. The effect was dramatic – attendance nearly halved – but this was the Colomboaca­demy. The less privileged schools suffered a worse fate: in 1880, following the coffee crash, the education vote for the island was frozen at Rs.500,000, and five years later, expenditur­e dropped from Rs.14 million to Rs.12 million.

Meanwhile, the rapid expansion of Sinhala and Tamil schools led to the monopolisa­tion of English education by missionary bodies, which is why so many high-end missionary schools came to be built after, not before, the Morgan Committee reforms: Wesley College in 1874, Bishops College in 1875, Richmond College in 1877 and St. Patrick’s College in 1881. The Church and State, however, were not their sole patrons; philanthro­py played its part too, as with Prince of Wales College. Paradoxica­lly, moreover, it was the opening up of Sinhala and Tamil education that led to the establishm­ent of many private and semi-private schools; they were entrenched by the grant-in-aid system: the latter being discontinu­ed in 1961, in spite of opposition from the Church, by the Sirimavo Bandaranai­ke Government.

The fortunes of government and private schools largely depended on State policy. From 1857 to 1862, the number of government schools rose from 99 to 5,518, that of free schools from 315 to 12,087 and that of aided schools (State funded missionary enclaves) from 15 to 1,424; by contrast, the number of private schools grew from 873 to 5,508 The rapid expansion of Sinhala and Tamil schools led to the monopolisa­tion of English education by missionary bodies, which is why so many high-end missionary schools came to be built after, not before, the Morgan Committee reforms

 ??  ?? The Cotta Institutio­n
The Cotta Institutio­n
 ??  ?? The Colombo Academy, the beginning of the 20th century
The Colombo Academy, the beginning of the 20th century
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Sri Lanka