Although it is inappropriate to comment on the case regarding the allegation that Pallegama Hemarathana Thera sexually abused a young girl while the matter is under judicial investigation, the circumstances surrounding his recent arrest and subsequent release on bail have raised significant questions about religious authority, legal accountability, and the challenges facing the Judiciary in Sri Lanka. This necessitates a public exchange of views on aspects unrelated to the ongoing lawsuit.
The approaches adopted by the Government and southern Sri Lankan political parties in handling this issue have challenged the fundamental judicial principle that ‘all individuals are equal before the law’.
Following the investigation and subsequent arrest, the suspect was immediately admitted to a private hospital in Colombo. Consequently, instead of spending his mandatory period of remand custody in prison, he spent it in a hospital bed.
This has long been a conventional tactic employed by influential individuals to evade the strict grip of the law. Even a chief prelate, whose role is to preach morality to society, was not prepared to lead by example.
Selective equality
The swift granting of bail under charges carrying severe statutory penalties for child abuse stands in stark contrast to how ordinary citizens are treated under the enforcement of the law. This exposes how the principle of equality before the law is disregarded, and how the law is discriminatorily applied based on an individual’s social status.
The Government’s approach to this matter, along with the efforts of traditional political parties in southern Sri Lanka to portray the suspect’s plight as a threat to Sri Lanka’s Buddhist heritage, is contextualised by certain deeply entrenched and unwelcome realities within the Sri Lankan State structure.
Major political parties share a tradition of relying on the blessings and backing of the three main Buddhist monastic orders (the Maha Sangha). Even the party with a Marxist background – which entered the democratic political mainstream and has now ascended to governance after twice launching armed insurrections to seize State power – is no exception to this rule.
The suspect is the custodian of the eight sacred sites located in Anuradhapura, including the Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi. Political parties fear that publicly demanding severe punishment against him – a figure wielding immense spiritual and cultural authority – would alienate their traditional Buddhist voter base.
Historically, the political class has treated the high-ranking Buddhist clergy as a distinct institution that stands beyond ordinary civil legal oversight.
This institutional ‘compromise’ can be observed in the measures taken to obstruct criminal law from taking its natural course, primarily through the deliberate delaying of investigations by law enforcement agencies. While the arrest of the senior monk has captured the attention of all communities, it also clearly exposes the overarching crisis faced by the State Judiciary regarding child protection.
According to data from child protection advocacy groups and the National Child Protection Authority, thousands of child abuse cases have been languishing for years in the Attorney General’s Department and courts. When the accused possess significant socio-political influence, these institutional delays are weaponised to indefinitely drag out legal proceedings until the initial public outrage subsides.
A deafening silence
Sri Lanka has already witnessed several cases that served as a litmus test for the principle of ‘equality before the law’. The current case of the monk is the latest addition to this continuum. The question now arises as to whether the legal framework will prioritise the rights and welfare of the victimised girl over protecting a high-level religious institution.
Meanwhile, the silence maintained by the Mahanayaka Theras of Sri Lanka’s main Buddhist chapters regarding child abuse allegations involving high-ranking clergy, such as the Atamasthanadhipati, has become a subject of intensely emotional public debate.
Regardless of who the accused are, the Mahanayakas should have spoken out firmly against child abuse and exploitation. As leaders who impart spiritual and moral teachings in society, it is their paramount duty. This silence is viewed as an institutional failure to protect vulnerable children.
The absence of public condemnation and the delay in taking internal disciplinary action inevitably create the impression that the high Buddhist prelates prioritise protecting their own image, privileges, and power over justice and accountability.
It was only on 30 May, after more than a week, that the Malwathu Maha Viharaya announced that Pallegama Hemarathana Thera had been suspended and that North Central Province Chief Sanghanayaka Ven. Ethalawetunuwewe Gnanathilaka Thera had been appointed to perform his duties. The announcement stated that the latter would function in this capacity until the court proceedings regarding the allegations against the former are concluded.
Child abuse completely contradicts the fundamental Buddhist philosophies of non-violence (ahimsa) and compassion. There is a widespread opinion that the silence of the high Buddhist leadership undermines the moral authority of the Buddhasasana.
On the other hand, a view is put forward that the high Buddhist prelates prefer to wait until the results of the official investigation are released, as criminal charges such as child abuse fall exclusively within the jurisdiction of the country’s law enforcement agencies and the Judiciary.
Two forms of justice?
There is a growing, consensus-based demand among civil society that child protection must be prioritised over the institutional hierarchies of Buddhism. The primary duty of the State is to prove through law enforcement agencies and the Judiciary that no individual is above the law, regardless of the accused’s spiritual status, political influence, or social standing.
Civil society organisations demand that the Police conduct an impartial, evidence-based investigation into the allegations, without succumbing to pressure or interference from religious institutions or political forces that align their political interests with those of such institutions.
There must be a clear line of separation between the interests of religious institutions and the functions of the State. Although this may not be fully possible due to the constitutional priority given to Buddhism in Sri Lanka, the Government should have demonstrated political courage by firmly clarifying that criminal offences like child abuse fall strictly under secular criminal law.
Instead, President Anura Kumara Dissanayake announced last week that the Government would soon bring a bill to Parliament to maintain the structure of the Maha Sangha in accordance with the code of conduct for Buddhist monks, and to re-grant the authority to take disciplinary action through separate ‘dharma courts’.
The equality of all before the law is one of the fundamental tenets of a democratic nation. Everyone, from ordinary citizens to those holding high office, must be investigated and brought to justice within the same legal framework. This is the central principle of modern democratic governance.
Against this backdrop, the proposal to establish a separate dharma court to investigate disciplinary matters involving Buddhist monks raises fears that Sri Lanka may gradually move towards a system with ‘two forms of justice’.
(The writer is a senior journalist based in Colombo)
(The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect the official position of this publication)