Connect with us

Features

A Majoritarian Constitution

Published

on

1972 Constitution in Retrospect – II

By (Dr) Jayampathy Wickramaratne, President’s Counsel

In this the second part of a three-part article on the 50th anniversary of Sri Lanka becoming a republic, the writer submits that the 1972 Constitution paved the way for constitutionalising majoritarianism in multi-cultural Sri Lanka.

The unitary state

Although Tamil parties expressed their support for the Constituent Assembly process, they were to be disappointed by the substance of the new constitution.

Basic Resolution No. 2 proposed by the Government called for Sri Lanka to be a unitary state. The Federal Party (FP) proposed an amendment that ‘unitary’ be replaced by ‘federal’.

In a memorandum and the model constitution that it submitted to the Steering Committee of the Assembly, the FP proposed that the country be a federal republic consisting of five states made up as follows: (i) Southern and Western provinces, (ii) North Central and North Western provinces (iii) Central, Uva and Sabaragamuwa provinces (iv) Northern Province and the districts of Trincomalee and Batticaloa and (v) Ampara district. The city of Colombo and its suburbs were to be administered by the centre. A list of subjects and functions reserved for the centre, with all others going to the states, was included. Interestingly, law and order and Police were to be reserved subjects.

However, Assembly proceedings show that the Tamils were clearly for a compromise. Dharmalingam, who was a main speaker of the FP under Basic Resolution No. 2, stated that the existing constitution had failed as it was not designed for a multi-ethnic country. He pointed out that in ethnically heterogeneous countries where unitary constitutions had been in operation, concessions to the federal principle have been made to meet the demands and aspirations of the minorities. Where there has been a refusal to concede the federal principle, there have been movements for separation. The FP distanced itself from secessionists such as C. Sunderalingam and V. Navaratnam, referring to them by name, and stated that it was not asking for a division of the country but for a division of power.

Dharmalingam made it clear that the FP’s draft was only a basis for discussion. Stating that the party was only asking that the federal principle be accepted, he suggested that as an interim measure, the SLFP, LSSP and CP should implement what they had promised in the election manifesto, namely that they would abolish Kachcheris and replace them with elected bodies. He stated: “If this Government thinks that it does not have a mandate to establish a federal Constitution, it can at least implement the policies of its leader, S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike, by decentralising the administration, not in the manner it is being done now, but genuine decentralisation, by removing the Kachcheris and in their place establishing elected bodies to administer those regions.”

Sarath Muttetuwegama of the Communist Party, the first political party in the country to propose federalism, in 1944, followed Dharmalingam and stated that ‘federal’ had become a dirty word not because of the federal system of government but because of what the FP had advocated. He was clearly referring to the FP’s association with the UNP and the conservative policies it had followed, such as voting against nationalisations, the takeover of private schools and the Paddy Lands Bill. Seemingly oblivious to the offer that Dharmalingam had made, he asked why the FP had not used the phrase ‘regional autonomy.’ Speakers from the UF who followed Muttetuwegama made it clear that the UF was in no mood to consider the FP’s offer to settle for much less.

Consequently, Basic Resolution No.2 was passed, and the FP’s amendment was defeated in the Steering and Subjects Committee on 27 March 1971.

Dr Nihal Jayawickrama, who was the Secretary of the Ministry of Justice, under the UF Government, and played an important role in the constitutional reform process, has said that the first draft prepared under the direction of the Minister of Constitutional Affairs did not contain any reference to a ‘unitary state’. However, Minister Felix Dias Bandaranaike proposed in the Ministerial Sub-Committee that the country be declared a ‘unitary state’. The Minister of Constitutional Affairs did not consider this to be necessary and argued that while the proposed constitution would have a unitary structure, unitary constitutions could vary a great deal in form. Nevertheless, the proposed phrase found its way to the final draft. ‘In course of time, this impetuous, ill-considered, wholly unnecessary embellishment has reached the proportions of a battle cry of individuals and groups who seek to achieve a homogenous Sinhalese state on this island’ Dr Jayawickrama observed. ‘Reflections on the Making and Content of the 1972 Constitution: An Insider’s Perspective’ in Asanga Welikala (ed), The Sri Lankan Republic at 40: Reflections on Constitutional History, Theory and Practice vol 1 (Centre for Policy Alternatives 2012) 43.

It is significant that the FP continued to participate in the Constituent Assembly even after its amendment was rejected. Records show that its leader, S.J.V. Chelvanayakam, regularly attended the meetings of the Steering and Subjects Committee.

With the advantage of hindsight, it could be said that acceptance of the FP’s proposed compromise for a division of power would have proved to be a far-reaching confidence-building measure on which more could perhaps have been built later. Moreover, such an acceptance would have ensured the continued participation of the FP in the Constituent Assembly. Even had the FP, as the UNP eventually did, voted against the adoption of the new constitution, their participation in the entire constitution-making process would have resulted in greater acceptance of the 1972 Constitution by the Tamil people.

Although they discontinued participation at a later stage, Federal Party MPs nevertheless took oaths under the new Constitution. Tamil parties soon united under the banner of the Tamil United Front (TUF), which later became the Tamil United Liberation Front (TULF). At the famous Vaddukoddai conference of 1976, the TULF embraced separatism and adopted a resolution calling for a separate state called ‘Tamil Eelam’ in the Northern and Eastern provinces. At the 1977 elections, the TULF contested on a separatist platform and swept the Tamil areas.

The place of Buddhism

According to Dr Jayawickrama, Dr. de Silva’s original proposal called for the guarantee of freedom of thought, conscience and religion to every citizen. However, the Prime Minister requested that this proposal be added with a provision for the protection of institutions and traditional places of worship of Buddhists.

Basic Resolution No. 3 approved by the Constituent Assembly was for Buddhism to be given its ‘rightful place’: ‘In the Republic of Sri Lanka, Buddhism, the religion of the majority of the people, shall be given its rightful place, and accordingly, it shall be the duty of the State to protect and foster Buddhism, while assuring to all religions the rights granted by Basic Resolution 5 (iv).’

Basic Resolution 5 (iv) referred to read: “Every citizen shall have the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion. This right shall include freedom to have and adopt a religion or belief of his choice, and freedom, either individually or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in worship, observance, practice and teaching.”

But by the time the final draft was approved, the proposal had undergone a further change. Article 6 of the 1972 Constitution is as follows: ‘The Republic of Sri Lanka shall give to Buddhism the foremost place and accordingly it shall be the duty of the State to protect and foster Buddhism while assuring to all religions the rights granted by section 18 (1) (d).’ Section 18 (1) (d), in the chapter on fundamental rights, assures to all citizens the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion.

To the question of whether constitutionally guaranteeing special status to Buddhism not available to other religions of the land might adversely affect the non-Buddhists, Dr de Silva retrospectively responded in the following manner: “The section in respect of Buddhism is subject to section 18 (1) (d) and I wish to say, I believe in a secular state. But you know when Constitutions are made by Constituent Assemblies they are not made by the Minister of Constitutional Affairs. I myself would have preferred (section 18(1) (d)). But there is nothing…And I repeat, NOTHING, in section 6 which in any manner infringes upon the rights of any religion in this country. (Safeguards for the Minorities in the 1972 Constitution (Young Socialist 1987) 10.)

Dr Jayawickrama has been more critical. ‘If Buddhism had survived in the hearts and minds of the people through nearly five centuries of foreign occupation, a constitutional edict was hardly necessary to protect it now’, he opined. (‘Colvin and Constitution-Making – A Postscript’ Sunday Island, 15 July 2007).

Language provisions

Basic Resolution No.11 stated that all laws shall be enacted in Sinhala and that there shall be a Tamil translation of every law so enacted.

Basic Resolution No.12 read as follows: “(1) The Official Language of Sri Lanka shall be Sinhala as provided by the Official Language Act No. 32 of 1956. (2) The use of the Tamil Language shall be in accordance with the Tamil Language (Special Provisions) Act No. 28 of 1958.”

Efforts by the FP to get the Government to improve upon Basic Resolutions Nos. 11 and 12 failed. On 28 June 1971, both resolutions were passed, amendments proposed by the FP having been defeated. S.J.V. Chelvanayakam informed the Constituent Assembly that they had met with both the Prime Minister and the Minister of Constitutional Affairs, and while the meetings had been cordial, the Government had refused to make any alteration to the Basic Resolutions. He stated that the FP would therefore not attend future meetings. “We have come to the painful conclusion that as our language rights are not satisfactorily provided in the proposed Constitution, no useful purpose will be served in our continuing in the deliberations of this Assembly. By taking this step, we mean no offence to anybody. We only want to safeguard the dignity of our people.” There was not even a dramatic walk out. ‘We do not wish to stage a demonstration by walking out’, he added.

That Dr Colvin R. de Silva, who prophetically stated in 1955, ‘one language, two countries; two languages, one country’, should go so far as to upgrade the then-existing language provisions to constitutional status has baffled many political observers. In fact, according to Dr Jayawickrama, the Prime Minister had stated that it would be unwise to re-open the language debate and that the better course would be to let the ordinary laws on the subject operate in the form in which they were. By this time, the Privy Council had reversed the decision of the Supreme Court in A.G. v Kodeswaranthat a public servant could not sue the Crown for breach of contract of employment and sent the case back for a determination on other issues, including the main issue as to whether the Official Language Act violated section 29 (2), as the District Court had held. Dr. de Silva did not wish the Supreme Court to re-visit the issue. ‘If the courts do declare this law invalid and unconstitutional, heavens alive, the chief work done from 1956 onwards will be undone. You will have to restore the egg from the omelette into which it was beaten and cooked.’ He had, however, resisted a proposal made by Minister Felix R. Dias Bandaranaike that Sinhala be declared the ‘one’ official language of Sri Lanka.



Continue Reading
Advertisement
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Features

People’s mandate and judicial legitimacy

Published

on

BASL public forum held last Saturday

Sri Lanka is witnessing the dismantling of the culture of impunity that dominated public life for decades. This is happening through the courts, police investigations and legal process. It is not an easy task and requires strong leadership as it is generating strong resistance. The ongoing revelations about the nexus between politicians, including those at the highest levels, and criminal networks show that the government’s electoral mandate with regard to corruption and crime is now being translated into action through the legal system. The vote of the people at the last national elections was for a corruption free country and an end to the climate of impunity that had prevailed for decades. They voted for a system change that would replace impunity with accountability under the rule of law. They expected those who had looted the country and brought it to the point of bankruptcy to be held accountable through the due process of law.

The cases that are being investigated by the police, in tandem with the Attorney General’s Department, and adjudicated by the judiciary are based on hard evidence. Much of the evidence that is now receiving publicity had been available several years ago and had even entered the legal process. In the past those cases failed to reach fruition. Investigations lost momentum, prosecutions failed to marshal the available evidence and many cases were dismissed, some on technical grounds. Between 2019 and 2024, a total of 102 cases were withdrawn from the courts by the government authorities. The public knew, or strongly believed, that corruption and serious crimes had taken place. The inability to establish wrongdoing before a court of law and hold those responsible accountable created a climate in which political power appeared to provide protection from legal accountability.

A countrywide study titled Factors Guiding Voter Preference in Elections in Sri Lanka was commissioned by the National Peace Council prior to the 2024 elections under the European Union funded project Active Citizens for Elections and Democracy and conducted by researchers Dr Mahesh Senanayake and Ms Crishni Silva of the University of Colombo. It found overwhelming public support for accountability and good governance. While 93 percent of respondents identified resolving the economic crisis as their foremost electoral concern, an equally striking 83 percent said they prioritised candidates committed to fighting corruption. The mandate given to the government can, therefore, be interpreted to mean to restore integrity to public life and end the long standing culture of impunity.

Different Approach

Today, it can be seen that the police, the Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption, the Attorney General’s Department and the judiciary are approaching matters of impunity in respect of corruption and crime in a manner that is markedly different from the past. Several persons who formerly occupied high office have now been subjected to due legal process and, in a number of cases, convicted after judicial scrutiny at different levels of the court system. This is an important difference from earlier years when cases involving politically prominent persons frequently failed to proceed or collapsed before reaching their conclusion. The strength of the present accountability process lies not only in the convictions that have been secured but also in the growing public confidence that no one is above the law. It is in this context that reports of a government proposal to extend by two years the retirement age of judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal have generated support from those who wish to see the present accountability process continue and opposition from those who see it as an attempt to influence the judiciary.

Many countries have increased judicial retirement ages in recognition of longer life expectancy and the value of retaining experienced judges. This has not only been limited to the judiciary but also the academia and the public service. However, the controversy in Sri Lanka is due to the context and as the proposal for an extension of the period of service of judges of the superior courts comes at a time when the courts are hearing politically significant corruption and criminal cases. The Bar Association of Sri Lanka has taken the lead in questioning the proposed constitutional amendment. The BASL has stated that it “notes with grave concern” reports that the government is considering increasing the retirement age of judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal. It has warned that extending the tenure of sitting judges at this point of time is likely to be viewed by the public as an attempt to interfere with the independence of the judiciary.

The main issue raised by the BASL is therefore one of preserving public confidence in the administration of justice. A discussion organised by the BASL also highlighted that this issue has implications beyond Sri Lanka. Representatives of the Commonwealth Lawyers Association and LAWASIA acknowledged that many countries have increased the retirement age of judges in recognition of greater life expectancy and the value of retaining experienced judges. Their concern was not with increasing the retirement age itself but with changing the tenure of sitting judges while politically significant corruption cases are before the courts. In such circumstances, even well intentioned reform could create a public perception that the judiciary is being influenced to take forward the government’s mandate in a partisan manner.

Maintain Confidence

The challenge before the government is to preserve two equally important objectives. The first is to continue implementing the people’s mandate to hold the corrupt and those responsible for grave crimes accountable before the law. The second is to ensure that nothing is done which could diminish public confidence in the independence and impartiality of the judiciary that is entrusted with carrying out that responsibility. The strength of the present accountability process lies in the confidence it has generated among the public that investigations, prosecutions and judicial decisions are being made according to law as in the convictions that have been secured. Sri Lanka has come a long way from the days when politically sensitive cases rarely reached a successful conclusion. It would be unfortunate if doubts regarding the independence of the judiciary were to overshadow what has otherwise been a significant institutional achievement.

In the face of the concerns expressed by the BASL, opposition political parties and international legal organisations, it would be prudent for the government to widen the discussion on the proposed amendment. If there is a compelling case to increase the retirement age of judges of the superior courts, that case should be placed before the public and parliament and debated openly. Such a constitutional amendment should not rest solely on the government’s parliamentary majority, even if it has the numbers to secure its passage. Simply utilising the numbers that the government on its own to make changes to the constitution will not increase its legitimacy or credibility. Those values will be strengthened if they were preceded by public consultation and supported across party lines in Parliament. Bipartisan political support can be expected from those in the opposition, of whom there are many, who have shown an inclination to practice responsible politics in the national interest.

The people voted not only to change a government but to change a system. They expected those who abused public trust to be held accountable through institutions that commanded public confidence. That expectation is beginning to be fulfilled. It should not be placed at risk by constitutional change that lacks broad public acceptance. If the government believes there is a compelling case to extend the retirement age of the judges of the superior courts, it should first make that case to the people and seek bipartisan support in Parliament with those in the opposition who are also sincere about anti-corruption and good governance. The challenge is to protect the independence of the judiciary while ensuring that no one is above the law. Overcoming this challenge is the surest way to make Sri Lanka’s transition from a culture of impunity to one of accountability a lasting one.

by Jehan Perera

Continue Reading

Features

Intelligence-led governance: the strategic path to a sovereign nation

Published

on

In an increasingly volatile and interconnected world, the strength of a nation is no longer determined solely by the size of its military, the abundance of its natural resources, or the growth of its economy.

In an increasingly volatile and interconnected world, the strength of a nation is no longer determined solely by the size of its military, the abundance of its natural resources, or the growth of its economy. The true measure of national strength lies in the resilience of its institutions, the confidence of its people, the effectiveness of its governance, and its ability to anticipate and respond to emerging challenges before they become national crises.

The twenty-first century has introduced a security landscape that is far more complex than ever before. Nations today confront not only conventional military threats but also terrorism, organised crime, cyber-attacks, economic instability, disinformation, climate change, pandemics, energy insecurity, irregular migration, financial crimes, and geopolitical competition. These challenges are interconnected and demand integrated responses rather than isolated solutions.

To navigate this evolving environment successfully, every nation requires a shared strategic vision supported by strong institutions working in harmony. At the centre of this vision should be a modern, professional, and intelligence-led system of governance that enables informed decision-making, protects democratic values, and promotes sustainable national development.

A Shared Strategic Vision

Every successful nation should aspire towards a common national vision:

A Sovereign Nation Happy People Peaceful Society Prosperous Economy A Respected Global Partner

These are not independent aspirations but interconnected national outcomes. Achieving them requires every State institution to work collectively under a common strategic framework rather than as isolated entities pursuing individual objectives.

A sovereign nation is one that possesses not only secure borders but also strong institutions, economic resilience, social cohesion, and the confidence to make independent national decisions. Sovereignty today extends beyond territorial integrity to include economic security, cyber resilience, energy security, food security, environmental sustainability, and protection against external influence.

Good Governance: The Cornerstone

The foundation of every successful nation is good governance.

Transparency, accountability, integrity, professionalism, and efficient public administration create an environment where citizens trust their institutions and investors have confidence in the country’s future. Corruption, political interference, inefficiency, and weak institutions undermine national resilience and weaken sovereignty from within.

Good governance is not merely an administrative principle; it is a national security imperative.

When public institutions function efficiently, public services improve, economic opportunities expand, and social grievances diminish. This reduces vulnerabilities that extremist groups, organised criminals, and foreign actors often exploit.

The Rule of Law and Judicial Independence

An independent judiciary is one of the strongest pillars of democracy.

Justice must be administered impartially and without fear or favour. Citizens must have confidence that the law applies equally to everyone, regardless of social status or political influence.

Judicial independence strengthens public confidence, attracts foreign investment, and reinforces national stability. Investors are more likely to invest in countries where contracts are enforceable, disputes are resolved fairly, and property rights are protected.

Likewise, professional law enforcement agencies play a vital role in safeguarding public order. Intelligence-led policing, supported by modern investigative techniques, community engagement, and technological innovation, enables law enforcement to prevent crime rather than merely react to it.

Human Rights: A Strategic Asset

There is often a misconception that national security and human rights exist in opposition. In reality, they reinforce one another.

Respect for human dignity, equality before the law, freedom of expression, religious freedom, and constitutional rights strengthens national unity and social cohesion. Citizens who trust their institutions are more willing to cooperate with authorities, report suspicious activities, and participate in community safety initiatives.

Communities become the first line of defence against extremism, organised crime, and social unrest when mutual trust exists between citizens and the State.

Human rights should therefore be viewed not as obstacles to security but as essential components of sustainable national security.

Intelligence: The Strategic Nerve Centre

At the heart of modern governance lies an effective national intelligence network.

Traditionally, intelligence was associated primarily with military operations and counter-terrorism. Today, its responsibilities extend much further.

Modern intelligence supports political leadership by providing timely, accurate, objective, and actionable information that enables informed decision-making. It anticipates threats, identifies opportunities, and supports strategic planning across all sectors of government.

An effective intelligence system should be:

*  Predictive rather than reactive.

*  Preventive rather than investigative alone.

*  Integrated rather than fragmented.

*  Technology-driven rather than paper-based.

*  People-centred rather than institution-centred.

Artificial intelligence, big data analytics, cyber intelligence, financial intelligence, geospatial intelligence, satellite imagery, behavioural analysis, digital forensics, and open-source intelligence are transforming the intelligence profession worldwide.

Countries that fail to modernise their intelligence capabilities risk strategic surprise and reduced competitiveness in an increasingly data-driven world.

Intelligence Beyond National Security

Modern intelligence should no longer be confined to counter-terrorism or espionage.

Its role should extend to supporting national development through the protection of critical infrastructure, monitoring economic trends, securing supply chains, safeguarding maritime interests, protecting natural resources, and assessing climate-related risks.

Intelligence should assist policymakers in areas such as:

*  Economic planning

*  Public health preparedness

*  Disaster risk reduction

*  Cybersecurity

*  Energy security

*  Food security

*  Environmental protection

*  Artificial intelligence governance

*  Foreign policy

*  Investment protection

An intelligence-led government anticipates future challenges instead of merely responding after crises emerge.

Whole-of-Government Cooperation

One of the greatest weaknesses in many developing nations is institutional fragmentation.

Government agencies often collect valuable information independently but fail to share it effectively. This creates duplication, delays, and missed opportunities.

A National Intelligence Fusion Centre should integrate information from intelligence services, police, armed forces, immigration, customs, financial intelligence units, cyber security agencies, disaster management authorities, health services, and environmental agencies.

Such integration provides decision-makers with a comprehensive national picture and significantly improves crisis management and strategic planning.

Economic Prosperity Through Security

Economic development depends fundamentally upon stability.

Foreign investors seek countries where governance is predictable, corruption is controlled, contracts are enforceable, infrastructure is secure, and political stability is maintained.

An effective intelligence system quietly protects these conditions by identifying threats to investment, monitoring organised crime, preventing financial fraud, protecting critical infrastructure, and safeguarding strategic industries.

Security and economic development are therefore mutually reinforcing.

Investment creates employment.

Employment reduces poverty.

Reduced poverty strengthens social stability.

Social stability reinforces national security.

International Partnerships

No nation can successfully confront modern threats alone.

Transnational organised crime, cybercrime, narcotics trafficking, terrorism, money laundering, illegal migration, and environmental crimes operate across borders.

Regional and global intelligence cooperation has therefore become indispensable.

Information sharing, joint investigations, coordinated maritime surveillance, and collaborative cyber defence significantly enhance national capabilities while strengthening diplomatic relationships.

Strong intelligence supports effective diplomacy.

Effective diplomacy enhances trade, investment, tourism, education, and technological cooperation.

Ultimately, international confidence contributes directly to national prosperity.

The Relationship Between National Stakeholders

National success depends upon collaboration among all stakeholders.

Government provides leadership and policy direction.

The judiciary safeguards justice.

Law enforcement protects public safety.

The intelligence community provides foresight and early warning.

Civil society strengthens social cohesion.

Educational institutions develop future leaders.

The private sector generates investment and innovation.

International partners facilitate trade, cooperation, and knowledge sharing.

Citizens themselves remain the most important stakeholders.

When these institutions operate with mutual trust, shared objectives, and effective coordination, they create a resilient State capable of responding confidently to both domestic and international challenges.

The Strategic Path Forward

Every nation requires a long-term vision rather than short-term political agendas.

That vision should place national interest above partisan interests and institutional collaboration above bureaucratic competition.

The pathway is straightforward:

Good Governance Independent Judiciary Professional Law Enforcement Protection of Human Rights Effective National Intelligence Network Political Stability Investor Confidence Economic Growth Foreign Direct Investment Peaceful Society Happy People A Sovereign Nation

This strategic chain demonstrates that sovereignty is not achieved through military strength alone. It is the cumulative outcome of good governance, justice, intelligence, economic resilience, and public confidence.

The future belongs to nations that can anticipate change, adapt rapidly, and make informed strategic decisions. Intelligence must therefore evolve from being viewed solely as a security function to becoming a central pillar of national governance and development.

A modern intelligence network should serve as the strategic nervous system of the State—connecting governance with justice, justice with security, security with economic prosperity, and prosperity with international respect.

A sovereign nation is ultimately one where institutions are trusted, citizens are protected, rights are respected, opportunities are created, and decisions are guided by knowledge rather than assumption. When all stakeholders work in harmony under a shared strategic vision, the result is a nation that is secure, prosperous, peaceful, and respected on the global stage.

The challenge before every developing nation is therefore not simply to strengthen its security apparatus but to embrace Intelligence-Led Governance as a national philosophy—one that integrates good governance, rule of law, human rights, innovation, and strategic foresight into a unified framework for sustainable national development. Such a vision will not only safeguard sovereignty but also ensure that future generations inherit a nation defined by stability, prosperity, and enduring peace

By Mahil Dole, SSP (Rtd.)

Continue Reading

Features

The perfect victim: How institutions respond

Published

on

Nils Christie

It has been almost two months since the judgement of Abeyasinghe v Tilakaratne and others by the Supreme Court. Since then, I have often been asked a simple question, which I, too, have asked myself. “Has anything actually changed?” My answer is both yes and no. Judgements can uphold the law, direct institutions and clarify principles. But they cannot, by themselves, change cultures.

I shall take the liberty of writing this piece because, in the weeks following the judgment, I have found myself reflecting less on the outcome of the case and more on what it reveals about our institutions. Yet institutions do not change simply because a court has spoken. They change only when they are willing to question long-held assumptions, reflect honestly on their procedures and practices, learn from their shortcomings and act decisively to foster a culture that places accountability at its centre.

The myth of the perfect victim

One such assumption is about the conduct of the Ideal or Perfect victim. The concept of the “ideal victim” was first articulated by the Norwegian criminologist Nils Christie in 1986. Interestingly, Christie was not concerned with identifying those most likely to become victims of crime. Instead, his question was who is most readily recognised and accepted by society as a “real” victim? Society is often more willing to extend sympathy and credibility to victims who fit a particular stereotype. According to Christie, the “ideal victim” is someone perceived to be weak and vulnerable, engaged in a respectable activity, in a place where they have every right to be, harmed by someone clearly viewed as “big” or “bad,” and, importantly, a stranger rather than someone they know. These characteristics continue to influence how victims are perceived today. Although we may not consciously apply such criteria, they often shape our instinctive judgments about who deserves to be believed.

In the context of sexual violence within universities, the assumptions surrounding the ideal victim quickly begin to unravel. Power relationships within universities are often complex, and professional relationships may have existed before the misconduct. The alleged perpetrator may not be a stranger but a lecturer, supervisor, colleague, or fellow student. The complainant may continue interacting with the alleged perpetrator because academic progression or employment leaves little choice. When a victim does not fit the mould of the “perfect victim,” attention shifts away from the conduct of the alleged perpetrator and towards the conduct of the complainant.

What should be kept in mind is that victims respond to trauma differently. Some report immediately; many do not. Some become emotional; others appear composed. Some resign from their workplace, while others continue to work because they have no realistic alternative or because they wish to confront the violence head on. Some preserve every piece of evidence; others delete messages simply because they cannot bear to see them again. Yet these perfectly human responses are often interpreted as reasons to doubt credibility.

Universities provide a particularly complex setting for this phenomenon. Most complainants do not initially seek justice. More often, they simply want the harassment to stop so that they can continue their education or employment in an environment where they feel safe. Sometimes victims make anonymous complaints, not because they wish to avoid accountability, but because anonymity provides the only sense of security they have. During preliminary inquiries/ fact finding processes, confidentiality can often be maintained. However, if the matter proceeds to a formal disciplinary process, complainants are usually required to reveal their identities. It is at this point that many decide not to proceed further, not because the harassment did not occur, but because the personal cost of pursuing justice becomes overwhelming.

Perhaps this should prompt us to ask a different question. Instead of asking why anonymous complaints exist or why complainants don’t come forward (sooner), should we not ask why so many complainants feel unsafe engaging with the institutional process?

The subject of scrutiny

When survivors do come forward, they frequently encounter another familiar phenomenon, victim blaming.

“Why didn’t you complain earlier?”

“Why didn’t you go to the police?”

“If you were sexually harassed, why are you still working there?”

“Why did you continue interacting with him?”

“The reason this happened is because you showed positivity towards him.”

“There is no smoke without fire.”

Although these questions appear different, they have something in common. They all examine the behaviour of the complainant. Very few begin by asking why the alleged perpetrator behaved in the way described. The familiar proverb, “There is no smoke without fire,” is often used to suggest that the complainant must have done something to invite the misconduct. Yet perhaps we have misunderstood where the fire lies. The fire is not the complainant’s behaviour. The fire is the conduct of the alleged perpetrator. The complaint is the smoke that finally becomes visible.

These responses also reveal another contradiction. If a victim complains immediately, some might question their motives. If they delay, the delay becomes the issue. If they resign, they may be described as unstable or unable to cope. If they remain in employment, their continued presence is taken as evidence that the misconduct could not have been serious or that it never had happened. If they show emotion, they risk being dismissed as irrational. If they remain composed, they may be accused of exaggerating. In truth, there is often no version of events in which a complainant can satisfy every expectation placed upon them. If our systems only work for the “perfect victim,” then they were never truly designed for victims at all.

The silence that speaks

The recent judgment also prompted me to reflect on another aspect of institutional culture, silence. Within academia, even discussing judgments concerning one’s own institution may be framed as bringing the institution into disrepute. Such framing places academics in an impossible position. Those who speak are sometimes portrayed as being disloyal or as failing to respect the institution they serve. Yet genuine respect for an institution should not require silence in the face of injustice. Universities are places that encourage academic freedom, critical inquiry, evidence-based reasoning, and intellectual debate. They should, therefore, be places where uncomfortable conversations are not avoided but embraced.

The relative silence surrounding the judgment in academia raises important questions. Does silence reflect satisfaction that justice has been served? Does it reflect concern about damaging the reputation of one’s university? Does it reflect uncertainty about whether difficult institutional conversations are welcome? Or does it reflect a real or perceived fear of professional consequences for speaking openly? These are questions that deserve thoughtful reflection.

Post judgement reflections

At the same time, my experience in the weeks following the judgment has also been one of hope. Individuals who have experienced different forms of abuse have quietly come forward to share their own stories with me. Some have sought legal advice. Others have simply wanted someone to listen. Their experiences remind me that judgments do more than resolve disputes between parties. They send messages to those who have remained silent, that seeking justice remains possible. Perhaps that is one answer to the question I posed at the beginning of this article. Has anything actually changed? For some victims, I believe the answer is yes. A judgement can restore hope and encourage those who had previously felt that their voices would never be heard.

Yet judgments alone cannot erase trauma, restore lost years, or undo the personal and professional consequences that many victims endure. Courts can interpret the law, but they cannot, by themselves, transform institutional culture. Culture changes only when institutions and university communities are willing to learn from judgments rather than merely comply with them. It changes when realities of power imbalances are recognised, when credibility is assessed through evidence rather than stereotypes, and when the question “Why did the victim not come forward sooner?” is replaced with “What conditions made it so difficult for the victim to come forward?” Ultimately, the true value of a judgement lies not only in the orders it makes, but also in the conversations it inspires and the institutional self-reflection it demands. Whether anything truly changes will not depend on the judgement itself, but on whether institutions have the courage to learn from them.

(Udari Abeyasinghe is attached to the Faculty of Dental Sciences at the University of Peradeniya)

Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.

by Udari Abeyasinghe

Continue Reading

Trending