-By LeN Legal Affairs Correspondent
(Lanka-e-News -28.May.2025, 11.10 PM) It’s often said in Colombo’s legal corridors that Sri Lanka’s political theatre doesn’t follow the Constitution—it occasionally just wings it and prays the judiciary is too polite to notice.
But in an extraordinary twist following a particularly fiery session of the Parliamentary Select Committee on Muslim extremism—formed in the chaotic aftermath of the 2019 Easter Sunday bombings—MP M.A. Sumanthiran is now under a quiet but legally combustible spotlight.
The charge? Allegedly using his position in the Committee to politically target fellow Muslim MP M.L.A.M. Hisbullah and to tread perilously close to contempt of court by interrogating a matter that remains sub judice before the Supreme Court of Sri Lanka.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we’re now in uncharted constitutional waters, where Parliamentary privilege, Committee power, and judicial restraint collide—and no one is quite sure who gets to wear the wig of authority.
The Select Committee in question was constituted in the immediate wake of the 2019 Easter Sunday terrorist attacks—a ghastly moment in Sri Lanka’s modern history. The remit of the Committee was to examine the root causes and warning signs of radicalisation, especially among the country’s Muslim communities.
But it soon became apparent that the Committee was not simply fact-finding. It became political stagecraft at its most combustible. That was when MP Hisbullah—former Eastern Province Governor and an outspoken critic of merging the Northern and Eastern provinces—was summoned for questioning.
Enter M.A. Sumanthiran, Attorney-at-Law, Tamil National Alliance MP, constitutional purist on some days and prosecutorial populist on others.
And here’s where the drama begins.
During the Committee session, Sumanthiran grilled Hisbullah about a speech made in Parliament—a forum protected by Parliamentary privilege under Article 67 of the Constitution. Hisbullah had, according to Sumanthiran, made statements that were controversial, bordering on communal incitement, under the protection of privilege.
But Sumanthiran didn’t just ask about the speech. He challenged it.
“Why did you say that under privilege? What were you trying to hide?” he asked.
The question, ironically, might now be better posed to Sumanthiran himself. Because here's the constitutional car crash: Can one MP, in an investigative committee, interrogate another MP’s protected Parliamentary speech?
Legal experts are split.
Some argue that Sumanthiran crossed a dangerous line—effectively attacking the very foundation of Parliamentary democracy by trying to regulate how another legislator uses privilege.
“Parliamentary privilege is sacred,” says a retired Appeal Court judge. “It’s not something you selectively apply. If you allow Committees to question protected speech, you invite a chilling effect on free legislative debate.”
Others, however, argue that Hisbullah’s speech was part of a broader pattern of behaviour and therefore fair game.
But even if we forgive the privilege paradox, Sumanthiran might have stepped into even more treacherous terrain.
At one point in the Committee, Sumanthiran questioned Hisbullah about a matter pending before the Supreme Court. When Hisbullah declined to answer, citing the case’s pending status, Sumanthiran reportedly pressed further.
This wasn’t just political theatre anymore. It was a dance on the edge of contempt of court.
Sri Lanka’s laws are clear: Cases before the courts should not be discussed in a manner that prejudices proceedings. While Parliament enjoys wide leeway under Article 67 and Standing Orders, no legal immunity extends to deliberately interfering with or undermining the authority of the judiciary.
In the UK, such conduct might trigger a stern reprimand from the Speaker or an official investigation. In Sri Lanka, it could trigger something far more potent: constitutional litigation.
Legal analysts are already whispering that the Supreme Court may have no choice but to examine whether Sumanthiran’s conduct amounted to contempt—especially if a litigant brings it to the court’s notice.
Was Sumanthiran targeting Hisbullah because of his steadfast opposition to the merger of the North and East—a policy favoured by Tamil political leaders? Hisbullah, who represents a unique Muslim political voice from the East, has long opposed any such merger, arguing it would marginalise Muslim interests.
Could Sumanthiran’s interrogation have been politically motivated, disguised as due diligence?
This isn't idle speculation. Hisbullah and his allies have accused the Committee—and particularly Sumanthiran—of weaponising its authority to humiliate dissenting Muslim voices.
“This was not an inquiry. It was a witch-hunt,” said one Hisbullah-aligned MP, speaking anonymously. “Sumanthiran knew exactly what he was doing—he wanted to paint Hisbullah as extremist, then as evasive, and finally as contemptuous of the law. Ironically, it’s he who may have done all three.”
If Sumanthiran is found to have interfered with a pending Supreme Court case or misused his authority to investigate a protected Parliamentary act, there could be serious consequences.
In theory:
The Supreme Court could initiate contempt proceedings under Article 105 of the Constitution.
Parliament’s Ethics and Privileges Committee could take up the matter, especially if it’s determined that privilege was breached or manipulated.
The Bar Association of Sri Lanka could also investigate any breach of professional ethics, considering Sumanthiran’s status as a senior attorney.
If found guilty of contempt, Sumanthiran could be fined, jailed, or suspended from Parliament—although such a scenario remains extremely rare and politically explosive.
This case illustrates an increasingly urgent problem in Sri Lankan governance: blurred boundaries between Parliament and Judiciary. With powerful committees becoming quasi-tribunals, and MPs conducting politically charged inquiries into ongoing court cases, the risk to judicial independence—and to constitutional integrity—is high.
This isn’t just about Sumanthiran or Hisbullah anymore. It’s about the fundamental separation of powers. Can a Parliamentary Committee override judicial sensitivity? Can an MP weaponise legislative immunity to influence legal narratives?
If these questions go unanswered, future Committees may feel emboldened to interrogate judges, cross-examine petitioners, or harass witnesses involved in politically sensitive cases—all under the veil of “oversight.”
In most democracies, Parliament and the Judiciary exist in a finely balanced dance of deference and distance. What happened between Sumanthiran and Hisbullah may appear to some as a Committee fulfilling its mandate, and to others as a Member of Parliament bulldozing constitutional boundaries for political advantage.
One thing is certain: Sri Lanka’s Supreme Court may now be called upon to clarify whether Sumanthiran’s conduct merits rebuke or redemption.
If they duck the issue, they risk allowing Parliamentary inquisitions to run roughshod over due process. If they confront it, they will be drawn into a political minefield with few legal precedents and high reputational stakes.
Either way, the rule of law will be tested—not in theoretical judgments, but in how much Parliament is allowed to ask, and how much the Judiciary is prepared to endure.
Sumanthiran may have opened a legal Pandora’s Box. And inside it, unlike in fairy tales, there may be no hope—just litigation.
-By LeN Legal Affairs Correspondent
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by (2025-05-28 23:20:04)
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