Sri Lanka needs effective protection against organised crime and terrorism. It also needs laws that protect democratic rights.
Sri Lanka has every reason to confront organised crime and terrorism with determination. Extortion, drug trafficking, violence and genuine threats to national security undermine freedom as surely as arbitrary state power does. The difficult question is not whether the State needs effective laws. It is whether those laws can be strong enough to protect the public without becoming instruments of fear.
The debate has sharpened around proposed legislation dealing with organised crime and terrorism.
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The Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill received its first reading in Parliament on October 20. The Government has described the proposed framework as a means of improving cooperation against serious and transnational criminal activity. Critics of the wider security-law agenda, including trade union and civil-liberties representatives, have warned that expansive powers could threaten lawful dissent.
Both concerns deserve serious consideration. Sri Lankans know the consequences of organised criminal networks operating with impunity. They also know the danger of broad detention powers and inadequate oversight. A democratic government should not be required to choose between security and liberty. Its duty is to secure both.
The first safeguard is precision. Criminal offences must be defined narrowly enough that citizens can reasonably understand what conduct is prohibited. Peaceful protest, robust journalism, industrial action and criticism of public officials should not become vulnerable to interpretation as security threats merely because they inconvenience those in office. A law aimed at violent or organised criminal conduct must say so clearly.
The second is meaningful judicial control. Arrest, searches, surveillance and detention require standards proportionate to the intrusion involved. Where emergency action is genuinely necessary, prompt access to an independent court should follow. Detention should not become a substitute for investigation, and the ability to challenge unlawful action must exist in practice, not only in formal language. Third, accountability must extend to enforcement. Officers investigating serious crime need training, forensic resources and protection from improper interference. They also need enforceable rules on evidence handling, interrogations and treatment of suspects. Reliable prosecutions depend on admissible evidence and competent investigation. Coercive shortcuts can damage cases and public confidence alike.
The Government could make an immediate constructive move by publishing a clause-by-clause explanation of the bills, identifying the conduct each provision addresses, the powers it grants and the safeguards that constrain those powers. It should invite written observations from the Bar, human-rights bodies, journalists’ organisations, trade unions, police investigators and victims of serious crime. Consultation is most valuable before positions harden and amendments become politically embarrassing.
A parliamentary committee could then publish a reasoned response to the principal concerns, showing which recommendations were accepted and why others were rejected. That would not give any interest group a veto over legislation. It would give citizens a clearer account of how competing rights and risks were weighed.
Independent review should not end when a law is enacted. Annual public reporting on arrests, detention periods, prosecutions, convictions, complaints and judicial findings would reveal whether exceptional powers are being used as intended. Sensitive operational details can be protected without concealing the overall pattern of enforcement. A mandatory review after two or three years could allow Parliament to amend provisions that prove ineffective or disproportionate.
A further practical distinction is essential: organised crime is not defeated by legislation alone. Investigators require financial intelligence, witness protection, cross-border cooperation and the ability to trace criminal proceeds. Courts require capacity to hear complex cases without intolerable delay. Where existing institutions are weak, adding new offences may generate more arrests without producing more convictions.
The opposition must approach the issue responsibly as well. It should identify specific provisions it considers defective and propose workable alternatives, rather than treating every security measure as inherently illegitimate. The Government, in turn, should resist the temptation to dismiss all criticism as sympathy for criminals. Neither posture serves victims or the wider public.
Sri Lanka’s history makes this debate especially consequential. Governments change, but the powers written into law remain available to their successors. A safeguard that seems inconvenient to today’s administration may prove indispensable to tomorrow’s opposition, journalist or ordinary citizen.
Be that as it may, a confident State should not fear judicial scrutiny, transparent procedures or public consultation. Those are not obstacles to effective law enforcement. They are the conditions under which lawful authority earns public trust. Sri Lanka can confront dangerous criminals without weakening the freedoms it is obliged to defend.
