By Rajasinghe   Not many know of Saddavidda Pathiranalage Ranjan Sylvester, but we all have heard of Ranjan Ramanayake – actor, film producer, singer, politician, gadfly, former Member of Parliament, and, of late, a jailbird on charges of contempt of court for criticising the Judiciary. He is now back again in the news as his release is now being negotiated with the Ranil Wickremesinghe (RW) administration. Earlier, RW was in the forefront of the ‘Free Ranjan’ demand.  The previous President, Gotabaya Rajapaksa (GR), refused to heed this cry, probably because the misdemeanours of the Rajapaksa clan were the main object of Ramanayake’s unorthodox investigations. He highlighted instances of their alleged greed, bribery, and corruption.   Presidential pardons and Judiciary   One could not say that GR did not want to interfere with the Judiciary. He did not hesitate to pardon Duminda Silva, who was convicted of a much more serious crime. He then defied propriety by making the sprung convict the Chairman of a major State authority.  His predecessor Maithripala Sirisena (MS) pardoned another prisoner who was serving a life sentence for murder. After that there was an argument about who had taken a large bribe to lubricate that decision. Ramanayake’s so-called ‘crime,’ for which he paid a heavy price, pales into insignificance before those horrendous Presidential pardons.  This is not to say that the Judiciary erred in its judgement. It can only administer an existing law which the loud-mouthed parliamentarians could have changed earlier if they were so concerned about it.  Besides, Ramanayake could have apologised then, as he seems to be doing now, and probably earned a lighter sentence. He has now served one year of his four-year sentence and would have spent more time in prison but for the Aragalaya, which led to the sequential flight from office of three Rajapaksa siblings within three months.   Early years and Vijaya link   Ramanayake began to get public attention first as a young film star. Coming from the Catholic belt north of Colombo, he acquired many artistic skills both in school and church. In particular these Catholic actors were all good singers having sung ‘Kantars’ in the church and young Ranjan had a ‘vital selling point’ in that he was a distant relative of Vijaya Kumaratunga, who was the leading film star of that time.  “Vijaya Mama,” as Ranjan called him, certainly gave a helping hand when he recommended the young good-looking boy from his hometown to film producers. But the real close relative of Vijaya in the film industry was his nephew Jeevan Kumaratunga, who was his elder brother Sydney’s son. Sydney was a dedicated Samasamajist and Vijaya imbibed his brother’s leftism from his younger days. He used to boast that he sold the LSSP paper in the streets as a young man.  Even in his early days as an aspiring film star, Ranjan was known for his tenacity. He would stop at nothing to bag a role. He would badger the producer even for a minor role, which he would use to leapfrog into a bigger role in the next film. He also became a singer, though not an outstanding one. He called himself the ‘Red Butterfly’ (‘Ratu Samanalaya’) and would hold concerts in all parts of the country. Sometimes the band would refuse to play with him because he could not hold a tune, which was demanded by the audience.   The only available hero   But in politics, Ranjan walked a different path from his distinguished kinsmen. While Vijaya and Jeevan were men of the left transiting from the Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP) to the Mahajana Party (MP) with Chandrika Kumaratunga, Ranjan became an ardent UNPer (United National Party), who was close to film producers sympathetic to the UNP.  With the death of Vijaya, the retirement of Gamini Fonseka, and the withdrawal of Jeevan Kumaratunga into an affluent marriage, the Sinhala film industry turned to Ranjan as the only available hero. He too by this time had become a fitness addict and, with his swelling biceps, was a natural choice for the he-man film hero. He was the local Arnold Schwarzenegger and attracted similar tough guy roles in local films.  Cinema thrives on impossible dreams. One of its recurring themes is the single hero who rides in and takes on the bad guys and saves the poor and innocent. Kurosawa’s classic ‘The Seven Samurai’ celebrates the seven Ronin who come from nowhere and rid the village of its oppressors and move on. John Ford’s classics of the American West show the lone sherriff who rides in and takes on the bad guys as in ‘Gunfight at the O.K. Corral’.  In Sinhala cinema, it was Gamini Fonseka who perfected the role of the ‘chandiya’ who takes the law into his own hands because the power structure in the village is stacked against the poor man and his beautiful daughter, who ends up falling in love with their saviour. The ultimate in this formula were the roles played by MGR in Tamil cinema. He not only played the role of the redeemer, but actually began to hand out food parcels and clothes to the poor in Chennai, which catapulted him to fame and high office. His girlfriend Jayalalitha went one better and opened soup kitchens in villages.   Heir to the ‘chandiya’ tradition   Ranjan is the heir to that ‘chandiya’ tradition. A man of great integrity, he is annoyed by the delays among politicians, bureaucrats, and other powerful figures who have made life a living hell for ordinary people. With his film-star charisma, he does not have to kowtow like the ordinary politician to retain his popularity. He has returned every time heading the district PR for the UNP.  Having joined the UNP, he was used as a party-battering ram to win elections. He first contested from Ratnapura and was then shifted to Gampaha because as a vote puller he could increase the number of UNP members returned from that district. Naturally this did not endear him to local party chieftains, who had to play second fiddle to an outsider. Ranjan’s devil-may-care attitude based on the certainty of his popularity did not please the party hierarchy based on seniority, caste, wealth, and other criteria.  He played his favourite role as ‘One Shot,’ the hero from zero who saves the powerless and the poor, never mind the law. ‘One Shot,’ like other film-‘chandiyas,’ is above the mundane law and answers to a higher morality. That, however, as Ranjan discovered to his cost, is not how it works in real life.  However righteous, one cannot override the apparatus of the State. That has to be changed in another way, not by taping confidential discussions and urging the Police and Judiciary to bend the rules in order to trap bribe-takers and corrupt politicians, particularly if they belong to a different political party. In fairness, it must be said that he went after known crooks and corrupt family members who thought that they were above the law.    A hero in the eyes of the people   Ranjan will come out a national hero. He has become a part of the ‘aragalaya’ for justice and honesty. In a Parliament full of crooks and bribe takers – some who are up to their tricks even during this time of national suffering – he stands out as the only representative who chose to go to prison rather than compromise on his integrity. As an orator, he held Parliament spellbound with his disclosures, earning him the wrath of the then Government. He was a main platform speaker of the UNP and then the Samagi Jana Balawegaya (SJB). Already social media is calling him the next president of the country. Who knows, ‘One Shot’ may leap out of the cinema screen and get a chance to clean up this country of the curse of family dandyism and corruption. After all, if MGR could reign supreme in Tamil Nadu, why not his cardboard copy in Sri Lanka?   An important lesson   One important lesson must be drawn by our Legislature from the Ranjan episode. If it is serious about expanding the possibilities of criticising the crooked high and mighty, it must pass laws which will enable the Judiciary to take a more sympathetic view of whistle-blowers and courageous critics.  If it fails in that duty, it would be unfair to blame the Judiciary, which only adjudicates on the laws passed by Parliament. But what can you expect in a country that, for all its bluster and hot air, is yet to ratify the international covenant of the United Nations which enables going after high-level bribe-takers and recovering monies looted from its long-suffering people?