When the Judiciary Comes Under Attack: Is Sri Lanka's Contempt Law Being Tested?

Lawyers, politicians, media figures and the judiciary are increasingly locked in a dangerous battle over public confidence, judicial independence and the limits of legitimate criticism

Sri Lanka is entering an increasingly uncomfortable debate about one of the foundations of any constitutional democracy: how far can lawyers, politicians and the media go when criticising judges and the judiciary?

The question is particularly important at a time when the Sri Lankan judiciary has become the subject of increasingly aggressive public commentary, including criticism concerning judicial decisions, the conduct of judges and, in some cases, allegations concerning the wealth or assets of judges and members of their families.

There is nothing inherently unlawful about scrutinising public officials. Judges, like other public office-holders, are not above legitimate investigation or criticism. Nor should contempt jurisdiction become a shield against good-faith journalism, evidence-based investigations or reasoned criticism of judgments.

But there is another side to the constitutional equation.

If criticism develops into personal attacks, intimidation, deliberate discrediting of judges, threats, fabricated allegations, interference with pending proceedings or conduct calculated to undermine the administration of justice, the issue moves beyond ordinary political or journalistic criticism.

It becomes a question for the courts themselves.

Public confidence cannot be treated as a political weapon

The judiciary does not command an army or control a political party. Its authority ultimately depends upon the public accepting that court orders and judgments must be respected.

That is why attacks on judicial institutions are potentially much more serious than ordinary political disagreements.

The English and Welsh judiciary expressly explains the purpose of contempt law in institutional rather than personal terms. The objective is not to protect the personal feelings or reputations of judges, but to protect the authority, impartiality and independence of the courts and the administration of justice.

That distinction is critical for Sri Lanka.

A judge should not be protected from criticism simply because the criticism is uncomfortable.

But neither should a political actor, lawyer, media organisation or commentator be permitted to deliberately undermine the judicial process without consequence merely by describing the attack as "free speech".

The real question is therefore:

Where is the line between legitimate criticism and conduct that threatens the administration of justice?

The BASL controversy

The issue has become particularly sensitive following the recent public intervention by the Bar Association of Sri Lanka concerning proposed constitutional changes affecting the retirement age of Supreme Court and Court of Appeal judges.

The BASL has publicly argued that the proposal raises serious concerns about judicial independence and public confidence.

Such intervention is entirely legitimate within the constitutional debate.

Indeed, lawyers and professional organisations have an important role in scrutinising legislation affecting the judiciary.

But the same principle applies in reverse.

Criticism of the judiciary must itself remain within the law.

The BASL, individual members of the legal profession, politicians and media organisations all have constitutional rights to express opinions. But those rights do not automatically provide immunity from the law of contempt where conduct crosses the legal threshold.

Nor should contempt jurisdiction be used merely because the judiciary dislikes criticism.

That balance is fundamental.

The danger of turning judges into political targets

A particularly dangerous development would be the normalisation of campaigns directed personally at individual judges.

There is a substantial difference between reporting:

"The judgment contains a legal error because..."

and publishing an allegation that a judge is corrupt, politically compromised or personally dishonest without reliable evidence.

The first is legal criticism.

The second may potentially become an attack upon the integrity of the judicial process.

The distinction becomes even more important when allegations concerning the private wealth of judges or their children are published.

If credible evidence exists of unexplained wealth, conflicts of interest or unlawful conduct, those matters should be investigated through appropriate legal and investigative mechanisms.

But if personal financial allegations are published merely to create suspicion against judges because of decisions they have made, the consequences could be much more serious.

Judicial accountability and judicial intimidation are not the same thing.

India provides a significant warning

Sri Lanka's regional neighbour, India, has developed extensive jurisprudence concerning contempt and attacks on the judiciary.

The Supreme Court of India has repeatedly recognised that judges and courts are open to legitimate criticism. But it has also maintained that deliberate and calculated attempts to undermine the authority of the judiciary can cross the contempt threshold.

In one recent 2025 proceeding, India's Supreme Court took suo motu cognisance of what it described as scandalous allegations published by a digital-media editor concerning a senior Supreme Court judge. The Court stated that freedom of speech is constitutionally protected but is subject to lawful restrictions, and that allegations capable of bringing the judiciary into disrepute may engage contempt jurisdiction.

Indian jurisprudence also makes an important distinction between criticism and scandalisation.

The Supreme Court has stated that criticism of a judgment, its reasoning or even the conduct of judges is not automatically contempt. But it has emphasised that criticism must remain within acceptable boundaries and that allegations of improper motives cannot simply be attributed to judges without factual foundation.

That is an important lesson for Sri Lanka.

A democracy should tolerate criticism of judges. It should not tolerate deliberate destruction of the judicial institution through unsupported personal attacks.

South Africa demonstrates the other extreme

South Africa provides an even more dramatic example of the consequences when political attacks collide with judicial authority.

In 2021, the Constitutional Court found former President Jacob Zuma guilty of contempt after he failed to comply with an order requiring him to participate in proceedings before the State Capture Commission.

The case was extraordinary not merely because of the failure to obey the order, but because of the accompanying public attacks on the Constitutional Court and the judiciary.

The South African Constitutional Court concluded that the circumstances justified an exceptional punitive response and ultimately imposed a 15-month term of imprisonment.

The majority made a fundamental constitutional point: protecting courts from attacks is not primarily about protecting the personal feelings or reputations of judges.

It is about preserving the ability of judges to perform their constitutional functions.

That principle deserves careful consideration in Sri Lanka.

However, South Africa also demonstrates why courts must exercise contempt powers with extreme constitutional discipline. The case generated a significant judicial disagreement over the circumstances in which imprisonment for contempt may constitutionally be imposed.

Therefore, "heavy-handed punishment" cannot simply mean the maximum possible punishment.

The punishment must be lawful, proportionate and justified by the evidence.

Even Britain is not immune

The United Kingdom provides another important contemporary example.

In June 2026, the English courts ordered contempt proceedings to be instituted against barrister Rajiv Menon KC following allegations that he disobeyed judicial directions during a criminal trial.

The court made an important procedural distinction: instituting contempt proceedings was not a finding of guilt. The allegations still had to be determined by the judge assigned to hear the case, with the respondent retaining rights to defend himself and appeal.

This is significant because it demonstrates how a mature legal system approaches contempt.

The court does not simply announce:

"You criticised or challenged the court, therefore you are guilty."

Instead, there is a process:

allegation → evidence → hearing → finding → proportionate sanction → appeal.

That procedural discipline is just as important as judicial authority.

Sri Lanka should consider a similar approach

Sri Lanka's judiciary should not be afraid to use its contempt jurisdiction when the legal threshold is genuinely met.

Indeed, failure to act where there is credible evidence of deliberate interference with the administration of justice could itself undermine public confidence.

If judges tolerate threats, intimidation, deliberate false allegations or calculated attempts to destroy confidence in the courts, the public may eventually conclude that the judiciary is powerless to protect itself.

But the opposite danger is equally serious.

If contempt proceedings are initiated merely because a politician, lawyer or journalist has criticised a judgment, the judiciary could itself be accused of suppressing legitimate democratic debate.

The answer is therefore not more contempt cases at any cost.

The answer is credible, transparent and legally rigorous contempt proceedings when the evidence establishes the necessary threshold.

Judges must also earn public confidence

There is another uncomfortable truth that must be acknowledged.

Judicial independence does not mean judicial immunity from scrutiny.

If allegations concerning a judge's assets, conflicts of interest or conduct are supported by credible evidence, the appropriate authorities should investigate them.

Judges themselves must maintain the highest standards of integrity.

Public confidence cannot be demanded by judicial authority alone.

It has to be earned through:

• independent and reasoned judgments;
• transparency where legally permissible;
• consistent application of the law;
• avoidance of conflicts of interest;
• appropriate disclosure and accountability mechanisms;
• equal treatment of powerful and ordinary litigants; and
• firm but impartial enforcement of court orders.

The South African Constitutional Court has expressly linked judicial independence and impartiality with public confidence in the administration of justice.

That principle applies universally.

The judiciary should not become another political battlefield

Sri Lanka has experienced decades of political conflict in which constitutional institutions have frequently become battlegrounds between competing political forces.

The judiciary cannot become the next permanent battlefield.

Nor can the Bar, politicians or media organisations be treated as enemies merely because they challenge judicial decisions.

The proper constitutional relationship is different:

The media investigates.
Politicians debate.
Lawyers challenge.
Courts adjudicate.

Each institution has power.

Each institution also has limits.

When those limits are crossed, the courts must have the courage to act.

Contempt proceedings should be evidence-driven

If Sri Lankan judges believe that particular statements, publications or conduct amount to contempt, the proper response should be neither silence nor political retaliation.

It should be a legally structured process.

The alleged contemnor should know precisely what conduct is complained of.

The evidence should be identified.

The applicable legal test should be stated.

The person accused should have an opportunity to respond.

The court should give a reasoned judgment.

And, where guilt is established, the sanction should reflect the seriousness of the conduct.

That is how judicial authority becomes credible.

Not through rhetoric.

Not through intimidation.

Not through political alliances.

Through law.

A warning to lawyers, politicians and media moguls

There should also be a message from the judiciary to those who deliberately seek to undermine it:

Criticism is not contempt — but contempt cannot be disguised as criticism.

A lawyer cannot claim professional privilege to conduct a campaign intended to destroy confidence in the administration of justice.

A politician cannot assume that political office provides immunity from contempt law.

A media organisation cannot assume that press freedom creates an unlimited licence to publish unsupported allegations against judges.

And a judge cannot assume that the office itself places every decision beyond criticism.

Everyone must operate within the same constitutional framework.

The ultimate test is public confidence

The greatest danger facing Sri Lanka is not necessarily criticism of individual judges.

It is the possibility that the public will eventually stop believing that the judiciary is independent, impartial and capable of protecting itself from political and media pressure.

That is why the courts must respond carefully but decisively where the evidence warrants intervention.

International experience demonstrates that courts in India, South Africa and the United Kingdom have all confronted serious challenges involving contempt, criticism, disobedience of orders and attacks upon judicial authority. But their approaches also demonstrate that judicial strength and procedural fairness must exist together.

Sri Lanka should learn that lesson.

The judiciary should neither retreat in fear nor react in anger.

It should apply the law.

Where contempt has genuinely been established, the courts should impose a sanction proportionate to the seriousness of the offence.

Where criticism is legitimate, the courts should tolerate it.

And where allegations concerning judicial misconduct are supported by evidence, they should be investigated through the appropriate mechanisms.

That is not weakness.

That is judicial confidence.

And ultimately, the strongest defence of the judiciary is not the suppression of criticism — it is a judiciary that demonstrates, case after case, that nobody is above the law and nobody is below its protection.