Questions
of life and death and the 'sanctity' of the law
So much can happen during the ten short days that one is away. Thus,
a judicial officer of the High Court, (on the eve of his appointment
to the Court of Appeal) and who, exceptionally, maintained his independence
during the most dangerously turbulent times that we have seen so
far in regard to the institution of the judiciary in Sri Lanka,
is casually killed.
Not
long thereafter, a petitioner who had obtained the largest award
of compensation from the Supreme Court for torture at the hands
of the police as a consequence of which he suffered renal failure,
is also slaughtered. His killing occurs just prior to his giving
evidence in a case instituted by the Attorney General under the
Conven-ion Against Torture Act, No 22 of 1994 against the police
officers.
And,
then, as if in scarcely believable and more than a little obscene
counterpoint, we have the elites gathering together to soliloquize
on the Rule of Law in learned discussions that, as aptly remarked
by a silk who has also held high public office, amounted to little
more than a 'pus vedilla.' As Lorca once commented with biting and
pungent wit, these are the 'apolitical intellectuals' who preoccupy
themselves with eating tortillas and discoursing on their abstract
theories while human beings die about them in the most unimaginably
degraded states.
One
remembers a very different inst-ance in 1999 when the same keynote
speaker at those sessions, one of Sri Lanka's most eminent legal
personalities, H.L de Silva rolled up his shirt sleeves on the podium,
(just prior to the appointment of then Attorney General Sarath Nanda
Silva, bypassing the senior most Supreme Court judge at that time,
Justice Mark Fernando), before going on to expand on the practicalities
as well as the theory that should govern judicial appointments.
This time around, the dynamics appear to have been very different.
It
is thus that we remain bedeviled with the most profound contradictions
in our societal functioning; where personal egos supersede questions
of life and death; where the death penalty is advocated as a quick
fix for far more serious lacunae in the functioning of the law and
order processes; where the president of this country's Bar Association
abysm-ally forgets himself so far as to all but exhort lawyers not
to appear for the alleged killers of Judge Sarath Ambepitiya and
where, (so very paradoxically), we see proposals to give enhanced
powers of detention to the police despite the real nexus now established
between organised crime and all levels of the police service.
But
strip away these banal frivolities and what do we have as the core?
There are more similarities between the killings of Sarath Ambepitiya
and Gerald Perera than what is immediately apparent. Both cases
are a direct consequence of the rude displacing of the old notions
of sanctity with which courts, their officers and all whose appeared
before these institutions had been regarded.
One
cannot say that these deaths were not forewarned. It was not long
ago that we had the attempted rape of another High Court judge.
What measures of security were put into place thereafter for these
judicial officers? The assassination of Judge Ambepitiya was an
incident waiting to happen.
Where
Gerald Perera was concerned, the need for protection of himself
and his family members had been long standing. In general, the United
Nations Human Rights Committee, in subjecting Sri Lanka's fourth
and fifth periodic reports under the Civil and Political Rights
Covenant to severe scrutiny last year, called upon the Government
to establish a witness protection program. What steps has the State
had taken in this respect through its arms, the Attorney General's
Department and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in particular?
In
an additional note of pathos, he had not yet been paid the eight
lakhs of rupees determined as medical costs by the Supreme Court,
up to the time of his death. This, is then, the way that the Court
is being flouted and scorned.
But
how indeed, can sanctity for the court be preserved when the judicial
and legal processes are so gravely undermined that the direction
of a case based on political factors is no longer something to be
marvelled at, where citizens rights are openly scoffed at, (in some
instances, from the judicial bench at the highest level itself),
and when the key figures in organised crime in this country owe
their survival to good friends within the police, the political
structures and even higher places and can afford, indeed, to thumb
their fingers at the law and all it professes?
At
some point, these elements were all bound to come together in an
explosion of violence that caught up in its vortex, the lives of
two individuals who, in their vastly different ways, were explicitly
not part of that cynical charade. Whether they should be glorified
by the term "martyr" or not is far from the core question.
Rather, we should let their deaths be the catalyst for genuine action
as opposed to the holding of arid seminar sessions. |