Opinion
Presidential authority in times of emergency: A contemporary appraisal – II
Keynote Address Delivered at the International Research Conference of the Faculty of Law, University of Colombo, on 12 December 2025.
(Continued from yesterday)
V. Usage Down the Ages
Empirical evidence during all epochs of history, and in a vast array of legal cultures, establishes without doubt the need for far-reaching executive powers during times of crisis.
The legal acumen of the Roman Republic did not recoil from conferment of even dictatorial powers on its principal executive officials—the two consuls—during periods of breakdown. They wielded life and death powers over Roman citizens, but the right balance was struck. Extraordinary authority was limited to the brief span of six months, and the appointing official could not select himself. Checks and balances assured success of the system: although 90 dictators were appointed under the Roman Republic during a period of 300 years, not one dictator attempted to perpetuate the system at the end of his tenure.
The English common law is certainly no exception to this tradition. The essence of the English doctrine is that the Executive has “an inherent constitutional authority to proclaim martial law when it deems there to be a public emergency, a proclamation that entitles the Executive to act as it sees fit to respond to the emergency” (Dyzenhaus).This power has been applied by the United Kingdom to her colonies, including Ceylon, where Governor Sir Robert Chalmers, for example, made ruthless use of it during the Sinhala-Muslim riots under the cloud of World War I.
In the United States, Congress has passed no fewer than 470 statutes granting authority to the President to use extraordinary powers during a declared state of national emergency. An egregious instance is Executive Order 9066 issued by President Roosevelt just two months after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour. This resulted in the mass incarceration of approximately 120,000 Japanese Americans from the western United States, over 70,000 of whom were American citizens(Amanda Tyler).
In the aftermath of 9/11, one of the gravest global emergencies in our time, American and British courts, for compelling reasons, showed marked solicitude for executive authority. A plurality of the Supreme Court of the United States held that the Congressional Resolution, Authorization for Use of Military Force, permitted the detention of enemy combatants, such power being recognized as “fundamental” and “a necessary and appropriate use of force” (Hamdi v. Rumsfeld). In the United Kingdom, in the first decision after 9/11, the House of Lords, grounding its decision in the separation of powers, held that it is for the Executive to decide what is in the interest of national security (The Belmarsh case).In doing so, the House of Lords had no hesitation in overruling the decision to the contrary by an administrative tribunal, the Special Immigration Appeals Commission.
VI. Imaginative Features of the Evolving Law
The limits of judicial review in this setting emerge clearly from impeccable precedents across the world. Legitimacy of the Proclamation of Emergency issued in Sri Lanka by the Acting President on 17 July 2022, assessed in light of these precedents, admits of no doubt.
The dominant test is that based on proportionality. The salient requirement is that the impugned measure should clearly realize or advance its underlying purpose, that “the use of such means would rationally lead to realization of the law’s purpose”(A. Barak). In terms of a comparative assessment of the harm inflicted on constitutional rights and the benefit accruing to the public interest, intervention by the Executive should come down heavily on the side of the latter, as opposed to the former(A.P. Brady).
The basis of justification is that the risk of harm sought to be averted should be very high, an overriding public interest being placed at stake in a situation where the outcome is perilously uncertain (J. Zander).Gravity of the risk and the extent of impending harm are the governing factors.
Evaluated against these criteria, the Sri Lankan Emergency Proclamation of 17 July 2022 passes the test with ease. In the backdrop of the nerve centres of the Executive Administration having fallen to the control of a violent mob, and the attempted extension of their initiative to the precincts of Parliament, where a crucial vote was scheduled within a matter of days for the election of the President of the Republic, in keeping with constitutional procedure, the Proclamation clearly served the purpose of ensuring unimpeded access to Parliament for legislators to perform their constitutional duty. Prevention of this by unlawful force would have presaged nothing less than the collapse of constitutionalism and the descent of the country into anarchy.
While recourse to the proportionality test would inevitably yield this result, it is worth noting a further refinement in the developing law. This has taken the form of modifying the criterion of proportionality by the application of a “precautionary principle” in suitable contexts.
The effect of this principle, now fortified by reliable antecedents, is “to favour the governmental objective (to mitigate or avert a crisis) over fundamental rights” (Ondrejek and Horak). This approach, militating against the postulate, in dubio pro libertate, has been described as “a rational and prudent response in the face of uncertainty”(Renn).
The precautionary principle, as a feature of contemporary jurisprudence, has its origin in international environmental law. Its substance is captured in the Rio Declaration on Environment and Development, 1992, which states: “In order to protect the environment, the precautionary approach shall be widely applied by States according to their capabilities. Where there are threats of serious or irreversible damage, lack of full scientific certainty shall not be used as a reason for postponing cost-effective measures to prevent environmental degradation”. Lack of epistemic certainty, then, must not forestall preventive action against grave damage. This principle has currently received acceptance outside the domain of environmental law as the anchor of a pragmatic mediating technique, of particular value in our time.
Applied to the Sri Lankan situation, it should conclusively govern the outcome, in that pre-emptive action in the face of impending disruption of a crucial meeting of Parliament is obviously a measure of prudence.
VII. A Realistic Assessment
The ratio decidendi of the majority decision of the Supreme Court is that, even after the President had reached a proper conclusion about the existence of a state of public emergency, he is still compulsorily required to consider whether other options are available to deal adequately with the crisis. This finding is demonstrably at variance with established authority.
The view has been persuasively taken that “There is usually more than one decision compatible with the complainant’s rights,
and it is for the public body rather than the court to choose between them”(T. R. S. Allen). Thus, “when there is scope for different answers or approaches, it is right that the court accept the solution favoured by the public authority”. Sir Thomas Bingham (as he then was) has referred in this context to “the range of options open to a reasonable decision maker”(R v. Ministry of Defence, ex parte Smith).Accordingly, there should not be “too narrow a space for the discretion of the primary decision maker”(Ondrejek and Horak).
The Supreme Court of the United States has declared: “It is no part of the function of a court to determine which one of two modes was likely to be the most effective for the protection of the public”(Jacobson v. Massachusetts). The Court spelt out the rationale for its ruling: the contrary decision could well lead to “disorder and anarchy”.
In a well-known ruling in 2018, in a case involving a travel ban imposed by President Trump, the Supreme Court observed: “Whether the President’s chosen method of addressing perceived risks is justified from a policy perspective, is irrelevant”(Trump v. Hawaii).The Court therefore refused the plaintiffs’ request for “a searching inquiry” on the ground of “the deference traditionally accorded to the President in the sphere of national security”.
This approach has cogency, for at least four compelling reasons.
First, the need for expeditious intervention is paramount. This is tied to the essential “reassurance function” of the Executive. “The government must act visibly and decisively to demonstrate to its terrorized citizens that the breach was only temporary, and that it is taking aggressive action to contain the crisis”(Ackerman).Speedy action on the spur of the moment, in an atmosphere far removed from one conducive to meticulous weighing of alternatives ex post facto, in a relaxed and unhurried setting, is the critical need.
Second, the consequences of delay should be evaluated against the prudence of prompt action. The reflection by Obeyesekere J. carries conviction: “In the event the Acting President did not take decisive steps, and further elected representatives were murdered, or Parliament was stormed, this Court may have had to consider whether there was a dereliction of duty in failing to act on the advice of pivotal officers responsible for maintaining law and order”. This was a situation in which the Minister of Public Security, the Secretary to the Ministry of Defence, and the Inspector General of Police had all recommended to the Acting President the declaration of a State of Emergency.
Third, in this instance, the effect of Presidential intervention was required only for a strikingly brief duration—until Parliament met within two days. Professor Bruce Ackerman of Yale University has offered the sapient comment: “The Executive should be given the power to act unilaterally only for the briefest period—long enough for the Legislature to convene and consider the matter, but no longer”.
Fourth, the rigidly circumscribed scope of judicial review in this setting is indicated by the narrow window for application of the Wednesbury test of reasonableness. In the evolving law, the impugned action is no longer required to be “suitable”, as a matter of judicial proof. All that is required is that it should “not be manifestly unsuitable”. This involves, from a practical standpoint, shifting of the burden of proof from the decision maker to those assailing the decision; and the threshold of proof is dauntingly exacting. The preferred principle in modern law is that “the courts should not quash or declare illegal any emergency measure or decision unless it is very likely(based on the already available data and evidence) that it cannot contribute to the legitimate aim in any way”(Ondrejek and Horak).
The Supreme Court of India has determined that there is no warrant for judicial intervention unless it is clear from the material on record that there is “absolutely no justification” for the Proclamation (Bhagvati J in Minerva Mills).Stringency of the test for availability of judicial review is laid bare by the example given by Bhagwati J—the Chief Minister of the state in question being below five feet in height(State of Rajasthan v. Union of India).This bears comparison with the famous illustration of the red-headed schoolteacher in the Wednesbury case. The trend, then, is unmistakably hostile to expansion of judicial review on this ground.
In our own country, this predisposition is reinforced by a firmly entrenched constitutional norm. A foundational principle of our public law is the vesting of judicial power, not in the courts but in Parliament, which exercises judicial power through the instrument of the courts. This is made explicit by Article 4(c) of the Constitution which provides: “The judicial power of the People shall be exercised by Parliament through courts, tribunals and institutions created and established, or recognized by the Constitution, or created and established by law, except in regard to matters relating to the privileges, immunities and powers of Parliament and of its members, wherein the judicial power of the People may be exercised directly by Parliament according to law”.
VIII. Conclusion
One of the most influential academic contributions to this subject in our time is the paper recently published in the University of Queensland Journal by Richard Ekins, Associate Professor of Law in the University of Oxford, and Graham Gee, Professor of Public Law in the University of Sheffield. The view is there articulated with exceptional force that there is reason to entertain deep suspicion regarding “a vague freewheeling judicial power”, which is seen at bottom as “antithetical to the rule of law”. This has been trenchantly denounced as “a lawless grab for power, unrooted in our constitutional tradition”.
The overarching problem is one of legitimacy. It should certainly give us pause that “this dangerous stretch of legal technique” carries with it the risk of displacing the proper exercise of political accountability and, in doing so, compromising basic constitutional principle.
This kind of judicial overreach has many undesirable consequences beyond the crisp question of the legality of the declaration of a state of emergency in 2022, including:
a) Traducing constitutional tradition;
b) Subverting the specific model of separation of powers reflected in our Constitution;
c) Undermining the established rule of interpretation that the courts construe the law from the face of the statutory and/or constitutional text, including due respect for ouster clauses;
d) Eroding established principles of public law in respect of the legality of executive or administrative actions; and
e) Inappropriately invoking doctrines such as those relating to ‘public trust’ and ‘just and equitable’ remedies to justify judicial overreach when those doctrines are there to ensure the common good and institutional role morality.
By Professor G. L. Peiris ✍️
D. Phil. (Oxford), Ph. D. (Sri Lanka);
Rhodes Scholar, Quondam Visiting Fellow of the Universities of Oxford, Cambridge and London;
Former Vice-Chancellor and Emeritus Professor of Law of the University of Colombo.
Opinion
Why so unbuddhist?
Hardly a week goes by, when someone in this country does not preach to us about the great, long lasting and noble nature of the culture of the Sinhala Buddhist people. Some Sundays, it is a Catholic priest that sings the virtues of Buddhist culture. Some eminent university professor, not necessarily Buddhist, almost weekly in this newspaper, extols the superiority of Buddhist values in our society. Some 70 percent of the population in this society, at Census, claim that they are Buddhist in religion. They are all capped by that loud statement in dhammacakka pavattana sutta, commonly believed to have been spoken by the Buddha to his five colleagues, when all of them were seeking release from unsatisfactory state of being:
‘….jati pi dukkha jara pi dukkha maranam pi dukkham yam pi…. sankittena…. ‘
If birth (‘jati’) is a matter of sorrow, why celebrate birth? Not just about 2,600 years ago but today, in distant port city Colombo? Why gaba perahara to celebrate conception? Why do bhikkhu, most prominent in this community, celebrate their 75th birthday on a grand scale? A commentator reported that the Buddha said (…ayam antima jati natthi idani punabbhavo – this is my last birth and there shall be no rebirth). They should rather contemplate on jati pi dukkha and anicca (subject to change) and seek nibbana, as they invariably admonish their listeners (savaka) to do several times a week. (Incidentally, Buddhists acquire knowledge by listening to bhanaka. Hence savaka and bhanaka.) The incongruity of bhikkhu who preach jati pi duklkha and then go to celebrate their 65th birthday is thunderous.
For all this, we are one of the most violent societies in the world: during the first 15 days of this year (2026), there has been more one murder a day, and just yesterday (13 February) a youngish lawyer and his wife were gunned down as they shopped in the neighbourhood of the Headquarters of the army. In 2022, the government of this country declared to the rest of the world that it could not pay back debt it owed to the rest of the world, mostly because those that governed us plundered the wealth of the governed. For more than two decades now, it has been a public secret that politicians, bureaucrats, policemen and school teachers, in varying degrees of culpability, plunder the wealth of people in this country. We have that information on the authority of a former President of the Republic. Politicians who held the highest level of responsibility in government, all Buddhist, not only plundered the wealth of its citizens but also transferred that wealth overseas for exclusive use by themselves and their progeny and the temporary use of the host nation. So much for the admonition, ‘raja bhavatu dhammiko’ (may the king-rulers- be righteous). It is not uncommon for politicians anywhere to lie occasionally but ours speak the truth only more parsimoniously than they spend the wealth they plundered from the public. The language spoken in parliament is so foul (parusa vaca) that galleries are closed to the public lest school children adopt that ‘unparliamentary’ language, ironically spoken in parliament. If someone parses the spoken and written word in our society, there is every likelihood that he would find that rumour (pisuna vaca) is the currency of the realm. Radio, television and electronic media have only created massive markets for lies (musa vada), rumour (pisuna vaca), foul language (parusa vaca) and idle chatter (samppampalapa). To assure yourself that this is true, listen, if you can bear with it, newscasts on television, sit in the gallery of Parliament or even read some latterday novels. There generally was much beauty in what Wickremasinghe, Munidasa, Tennakone, G. B. Senanayake, Sarachchandra and Amarasekara wrote. All that beauty has been buried with them. A vile pidgin thrives.
Although the fatuous chatter of politicians about financial and educational hubs in this country have wafted away leaving a foul smell, it has not taken long for this society to graduate into a narcotics hub. In 1975, there was the occasional ganja user and he was a marginal figure who in the evenings, faded into the dusk. Fifty years later, narcotics users are kingpins of crime, financiers and close friends of leading politicians and otherwise shakers and movers. Distilleries are among the most profitable enterprises and leading tax payers and defaulters in the country (Tax default 8 billion rupees as of 2026). There was at least one distillery owner who was a leading politician and a powerful minister in a long ruling government. Politicians in public office recruited and maintained the loyalty to the party by issuing recruits lucrative bar licences. Alcoholic drinks (sura pana) are a libation offered freely to gods that hold sway over voters. There are innuendos that strong men, not wholly lay, are not immune from seeking pleasures in alcohol. It is well known that many celibate religious leaders wallow in comfort on intricately carved ebony or satin wood furniture, on uccasayana, mahasayana, wearing robes made of comforting silk. They do not quite observe the precept to avoid seeking excessive pleasures (kamasukhallikanuyogo). These simple rules of ethical behaviour laid down in panca sila are so commonly denied in the everyday life of Buddhists in this country, that one wonders what guides them in that arduous journey, in samsara. I heard on TV a senior bhikkhu say that bhikkhu sangha strives to raise persons disciplined by panca sila. Evidently, they have failed.
So, it transpires that there is one Buddhism in the books and another in practice. Inquiries into the Buddhist writings are mainly the work of historians and into religion in practice, the work of sociologists and anthropologists. Many books have been written and many, many more speeches (bana) delivered on the religion in the books. However, very, very little is known about the religion daily practised. Yes, there are a few books and papers written in English by cultural anthropologists. Perhaps we know more about yakku natanava, yakun natanava than we know about Buddhism is practised in this country. There was an event in Colombo where some archaeological findings, identified as dhatu (relics), were exhibited. Festivals of that nature and on a grander scale are a monthly regular feature of popular Buddhism. How do they fit in with the religion in the books? Or does that not matter? Never the twain shall meet.
by Usvatte-aratchi
Opinion
Hippocratic oath and GMOA
Almost all government members of the GMOA (the Government Medical Officers’ Association). Before joining the GMOA Doctors must obtain registration with Sri Lanka Medical Council (SLMC) to practice medicine. This registration is obtained after completing the medical studies in Sri Lanka and completing internship.
The SLMC conducts an Examination for Registration to Practise Medicine in Sri Lanka (ERPM) – (Formerly Act 16 in conjunction with the University Grants Commission (UGC), which the foreign graduates must pass. Then only they can obtain registration with SLMC.
When obtaining registration there are a few steps to follow on the as stated in the “
GUIDELINES ON ETHICAL CONDUCT FOR MEDICAL & DENTAL PRACTITIONERS REGISTERED WITH THE SRI LANKA MEDICAL COUNCIL” This was approved in July 2009, and I believe is current at the time of writing this note. To practice medicine, one must obtain registration with the SLMC and complete the oath formality. For those interested in reading it on the web, the reference is as follows.
https://slmc.gov.lk/images/PDF_Main_Site/EthicalConduct2021-12.pdf
I checked this document to find the Hippocratic Oath details. They are noted on page 5. The pages 6 & 7 provide the draft oath form that every Doctor must complete with his/her details. Oath must be administered by
the Registrar/Asst. Registrar/President/ Vice President or Designated Member of the Sri Lanka Medical Council and signed by the Doctor.
Now I wish to quote the details of the oath.
I solemnly pledge myself to dedicate my life to the service of humanity;
The health of my patient will be my primary consideration and I will not use my profession for exploitation and abuse of my patient;
I will practice my profession with conscience, dignity, integrity and honesty;
I will respect the secrets which are confided in me, even after the patient has died;
I will give to my teachers the respect and gratitude, which is their due;
I will maintain by all the means in my power, the honour and noble traditions of the medical profession;
I will not permit considerations of religion, nationality, race, party politics, caste or social standing to intervene between my duty and my patient;
I wish to ask the GMOA officials, when they engage in strike action, whether they still comply with the oath or violate any part of the oath that even they themselves have taken when they obtained registration from the SLMC to practise medicine.
Hemal Perera
Opinion
Where nature dared judges hid
Dr. Lesego the Surgical Registrar from Lesotho who did the on-call shift with me that night in the sleepy London hospital said a lot more than what I wrote last time. I did not want to weaken the thrust of the last narrative which was a bellyful for the legal fraternity of south east Asia and Africa.
Lesego begins, voice steady and reflective, “You know… he said, in my father’s case, the land next to Maseru mayor’s sunflower oil mill was prime land. The mayor wanted it. My father refused to sell. That refusal set the stage for everything that followed.
Two families lived there under my dad’s kindness. First was a middle-aged man, whose descendants still remain. The other was an old destitute woman. My father gave her timber, wattle, cement, Cadjan, everything free, to build her hut. She lived peacefully for two years. Then having reconciled with her once estranged daughter wanted to leave.
She came to my father asking for money for the house. He said: ‘I gave you everything free. You lived there for two years completely free and benefitting from the produce too. And now you ask for money? Not a cent.’ In hindsight, that refusal was harsh. It opened the door for plunderers. The old lady ‘sold’ the hut to Pule, the mayor’s decoy. Soon, Pule and his fellow compatriots, were to chase my father away while he was supervising the harvesting of sunflowers.
My father went to court in September 1962, naming Thasoema, the mayor, his Chief clerk, and the trespassers as respondents. The injunction faltered for want of an affidavit, and under a degree of compulsion by the judge and the attending lawyers, my father agreed to an interim settlement of giving away the aggressors total possession with the proviso that they would pay the damages once the court culminates the case in his favour. This was the only practical alternative to sharing the possession with the adversaries.
From the very beginning, the dismissals and flimsy rulings bore the fingerprints of extra‑judicial mayoral influence. Judges leaned on technicalities, not justice. They hid behind minutiae.
Then nature intervened. Thasoema, the mayor, hale and hearty, died suddenly of what looked like choking on coconut sap which later turned out to be a heart attack. His son Teboho inherited the case. Months later, the Chief clerk also died of a massive heart attack, and his son took his place. Even Teboho, the mayor’s young son of 30 years died, during a routine appendectomy, when the breathing tube was wrongly placed in his gullet.
About fifteen years into the case, another blow fell. A 45‑year‑old judge, who had ruled that ‘prescription was obvious at a glance, while adverse possession was being contested in court all the time, died within weeks of his judgment, struck down by a massive heart attack.
After that, the case dragged on for decades, yo‑yoing between district and appeal courts. Judges no longer died untimely deaths, but the rulings continued to twist and delay. My father’s deeds were clear: the land bought by his brother in 1933, sold to him in 1936, uninterrupted possession for 26 years. Yet the courts delayed, twisted, and denied.
Finally, in 2006, the District Court ruled in his favour embodying every detail why it was delivering such a judgement. It was a comprehensive judgement which covered all areas in question. In 2015, the Appeal Court confirmed it, his job being easy because of the depth the DC judge had gone in to. But in October 2024, the Supreme Court gave an outrageously insane judgment against him. How? I do not know. I hope the judge is in good health, my friend said sarcastically.
Lesego paused, his voice heavy with irony “Where nature dared, judges hid. And that is the truth of my father’s case.”
Dr.M.M.Janapriya
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