Originally published in The Gateway Issue No. 46 (April 2013)
Alexander Burke was born at Folkestone, England, of Irish parentage of Dublin origin. The parents brought up their family in a strong religious spirit. One son, John, was ordained to the priesthood and served as Chaplain to the Brothers at St. Joseph's College, Beulah Hill, London. Alexander, however, decided he wanted a life dedicated to the educational needs of youth and in 1920 entered the Juniorate of the De La Salle Brothers at Les Vauxbelets, Guernsey. He received the Holy Habit on the Feast of the Holy Rosary 1923 at Castlemount, Dover, England, receiving the name of Edmund John. Having volunteered for the Far East, he left Dover in 1925 to begin his missionary career which brought him first to Manila and then to Hong Kong and Burma.
We are fortunate that Brother Michael Curtin, a personal friend of Brother Edmund, has given us a first-hand account of their relationship.
“I first met Brother Edmund in Les Vauxbelets, Guernsey, in 1922. Brother Leo Barrington and I had just arrived at the Juniorate and were being led around the dormitory where the Juniors were changing for football. The Recruiter introduced us to a smiling shock-haired Junior. ‘This is one of our best boys, Alex Burke.’ He had a winning personality and his efficiency, good humour and quick perception set him aside as a leader. He was 'chef de groupe' and I recall how tactfully he handled our recreation group in awkward situations. Half the Juniors were from England, half from France; with boys between the ages of 14-16, embarrassing misunderstandings could occur and only a leader with a personality could preserve the ‘entende cordiale'.
In 1923 I lost sight of Edmund for a year; he had begun his Novitiate in Dover. However, the following year, I was a Novice in Dover, and Edmund was studying in the Scholasticate. I then saw much of Edmund as Novices and Scholastics were intermingled in recreation groups and on the weekly walks. On the eve of his death, we spoke about those old Dover days, recalling old friends, amusing incidents. In the course of conversation he said, ‘You know, I really think I made a good Novitiate. Brother Damian George was always harping on convictions. I think I did acquire a few which came in good stead at a critical period of my life. Dover was no place for mollycoddling.’
At the end of his Scholasticate year, Brother Edmund volunteered for the Far East but before his departure he taught English to our group for a month. (The week of his death he teasingly introduced me to the Archbishop of Mandalay, as one of his old pupils). All I remember of his English lessons is his reading of poetry; he had a clear resonant speaking voice which he used with great feeling and expression. Leaving England and his Kentish home was not easy; under an exterior which some might have thought flippant or cynical, there beat a heart full of love of God, of his family and of his District. Brother Leo Barrington relates how a few days before he was to leave for his distant mission Brother Leo had been sent into the ‘Salle des Professeur’ to get some chalk. Under the impression that the room was untenanted, he burst in without knocking. There stood Brother Edmund by the window, looking towards Folkestone in the hills beyond Dover with tears coursing down his cheeks. An incident more eloquent than words indicating the great sacrifice Edmund was making, for he dearly loved his home at Folkestone.
Our paths were not to cross again until 1935. Edmund was transferred from Manila to Kowloon; I, to Manila from Kowloon. We crossed at sea like 'ships in the night'. The mantle of Edmund that descended upon me was rather voluminous. He was running a Debate Club, Oratorical Club; he had started a literary magazine, published a quarterly which was confined to literary topics, essays, poems, contributed by the students of La Salle. It was an undertaking out of the usual rut of school magazines and did much to foster and develop creative writers. Rafael Zulueta-da-Costa, who won international fame for his prize-winning epic "Strong grows the Molave,” dedicated his published work to Brother Edmund with a handsome and grateful tribute, for the guidance and inspiration he had given to the author as a student. Edmund in his short stay in Manila left an ineffaceable impression on his pupils as a teacher of English. He was not a mere transmitter of knowledge; his teaching was the joint enterprise of a group of friendly human beings who liked using their brains. He did much to create a nucleus of young enthusiastic Catholic writers of the Philippines.
Brother Edmund's brief sojourn in La Salle College, Kowloon, is still remembered with affection and appreciation by his old students. He made his mark by the force of his convictions, constant sincerity of thought, unfailing integrity of purpose and high ideal of his vocation and professional duties. Even at this distance in the years, his vigour and good humour are still remembered. Generations of La Salle students will keep his memory green when they sing the School Song which was composed by him.”
The thorny question of who wrote the lyrics of the beloved school song of La Salle College has been debated for decades. Some say it was composed by Brother Aimar, some say by Brother Marcian, some…the jury is still out. But it seems that Brother Michael had no doubts that Brother Edmund was the composer.
Brother Michael takes up the story again.
“During these years an intermittent stream of correspondence passed between us which abruptly ceased when War crashed into our smooth existence and swept us apart. After the war he returned to England and taught for two years in Kintbury. We were neighbours and saw a good deal of each other for we had many sympathies in common and had been in the same places, Manila, Hong Kong, Burma. He spent two years of study at Cambridge where, at the age of more than forty, he successfully passed his B.A. Honours. Edmund would have preferred to stay in England but at the end of his studies he was appointed Director of St. Albert’s High School, Maymyo, (now called Pyin Oo Lwin) in Burma. He quipped to me "Rome has spoken, the case is closed." Amidst a thousand difficulties, lack of funds, lack of personnel, he built a handsome concrete structure to house the Brothers and Boarding Department. He set the highest standards and tone and remarkably, within a few years of its existence, St. Albert's became outstanding for its results in the public examinations. To him St. Albert's owes a lasting debt which will grow as the school reaps the fruits of his ardent pioneer labours. Six years later, he was Director of St. Paul's, Rangoon, one of the best known schools in the country. His task was an immense one. There were 2,900 boys in the school and incessant demands for places. But he was determined to maintain high standards.
From youth Edmund had that mould and ideal of manhood which we would all like our pupils to aspire to and if possible attain. His great gifts of character were enriched and developed by his early training and constant self-discipline through life. The Chinese philosopher, Lin Yutang, says somewhere that the cultured man is not necessarily one who is well read or learned, but one who likes and dislikes the right thing; that is, he has taste. Edmund was a well read man. Moreover, he had taste, the capacity for thinking things through to the bottom, and independence of judgment and unwillingness to be bulldozed by any form of humbug. He was the soul of integrity. Utility as the only basis of morality was an ethical doctrine that he never accepted. He may not have been popular with some but he was respected by all who came in contact with him. Whatever task he engaged in was carried out with energy and efficiency but with good humour and consideration for others' feelings. He excelled as a conversationalist; his witty comments, stories, anecdotes enlivened the recreations. Everyone who has spoken to me, or written to me about Edmund, has emphasised three things: his cheerful humour, his vitality, and his integrity.
At the end of March, this year, Brother Edmund remained in Rangoon for a few days to complete the promotions for the scholastic year. He was eager to rejoin his community up in the Shan Hills. The Kalaw country house had been reopened and he was busy planning improvements for he wanted his community to enjoy a pleasant holiday. I was impressed by the warm reception given to him wherever he went; he seemed to enrich the lives of all who knew him.
We returned to Rangoon and on the 10th of April he came to bid me farewell at the airport at 1.30 a.m. The plane was delayed but Edmund, the perfect host, insisted on staying until 4.30a.m. when the plane finally flew off. In the early hours of the morning of the 11th of April Brother Edmund was stabbed to death by a hireling. The overturned furniture, the shambles of the room, and the sheer number of stab wounds bore testimony to the tremendous and heroic fight he made in death. May his gallant soul sleep in peace and may his courage and fortitude be an inspiration to us.”
It came as a huge shock when news of the murder spread. The police arrested a 19 year old youth who admitted to the heinous crime saying that Brother Edmund had refused to take a bribe to reinstate him in school. The assassin was sentenced and spent a term in jail. While in jail he was visited by the parish priest of the Cathedral who assured him that he was forgiven by the Brothers and by the Church. On release from prison he was employed around the Cathedral but later contacted rabies and had to be confined to a cellar in a hospital where he died.
In many ways the story of Brother Edmund is a lesson in doing what is right and the high price that can sometimes be paid for doing so, the price of integrity.
