A growing debate within Sri Lanka’s legal fraternity questions whether courtroom arguments meant to serve justice are slipping into populism, emotional theatre, and ethical danger.
A serious and increasingly intense discussion has emerged within Sri Lanka’s legal community following controversial statements attributed to Deputy Solicitor General Mr. Dileepa Peiris during recent court proceedings. While no one disputes that a lawyer has the professional right to argue forcefully on behalf of the state, the central question now being raised is whether some of these statements crossed the invisible but critical boundary between robust legal advocacy and conduct that risks undermining legal ethics, judicial dignity, and the rule of law itself.
It must be stated at the outset that what is under examination here are only the statements reported by the media as having been made by Mr. Peiris before court. These remarks do not appear in formal court records. Nevertheless, once such statements enter the public domain through widespread reporting, they become a legitimate subject of public and professional scrutiny. The unusually high public reaction to these remarks suggests that the language used resonated far beyond the courtroom and into the court of public opinion.
Several reported statements have drawn particular attention. Among them are remarks allegedly made while producing a former Presidential Secretary before a Magistrate’s Court, in which the individual was identified by name and surname in a manner that created a strong public impression of deception, personal misconduct, and deliberate evasion of justice. The vocabulary reportedly used painted a picture not merely of a suspect facing inquiry, but of a morally compromised individual who had abused public resources and misled society.
Similarly, public commentary surrounding official travel by Ranil Wickremesinghe to England was framed in a manner that blurred the line between factual legal relevance and suggestive narrative. Questions were raised not merely about legality but about intent, propriety, and public sentiment. Comparable concerns were voiced earlier regarding emotionally charged submissions made before the Matara Magistrate in proceedings involving former IGP Deshabandhu, as well as the request for remand made against Patali Champika Ranawaka during the Gotabaya administration.
Taken together, these episodes have prompted lawyers and academics to ask whether recent courtroom presentations by Mr. Peiris resemble those of a neutral officer of the Attorney General’s Department, or whether they risk appearing as performances aimed at satisfying public anger, media narratives, or political expectations.
This discussion is not an attack on an individual. Rather, it is an essential exercise in a democratic society. The Attorney General himself has acknowledged that prosecutorial discretion can be challenged before higher courts. The Bar Association has repeatedly emphasized that the Attorney General’s Department exercises quasi judicial power. That reality makes scrutiny not only legitimate, but necessary.
Under Sri Lanka’s legal framework, the conduct of lawyers is governed by the Supreme Court Rules on Lawyers’ Conduct and Discipline No. 02 of 1988. These rules clearly state that every lawyer has a duty to uphold the dignity and independence of the court. Advocacy must serve justice, not spectacle. Language that is irrational, inflammatory, or merely populist in nature, particularly if it interferes with the fair administration of justice, can amount to professional misconduct.
A lawyer also carries an obligation to treat opposing parties with respect, regardless of personal views. Even when allegations are serious, they must be presented through admissible evidence, not through character assassination or rhetorical exaggeration. The concern raised by many observers is that some reported remarks attributed to Mr. Peiris appear to go beyond firm legal argument and enter a zone that feels inconsistent with the professional restraint expected of a senior state law officer.
This concern matters deeply because the Attorney General’s Department does not function like a private legal practice. In common law systems, including Sri Lanka’s, a state prosecutor is traditionally described as a “Minister of Justice.” This concept imposes a higher duty than simply winning cases. It requires prioritizing truth, fairness, and the integrity of the judicial process above public applause or political convenience.
From this perspective, one key test is whether the facts presented before court are framed to assist judicial independence or to provoke public outrage. When language becomes emotionally charged or suggestive in a way that eclipses the legal elements of the offence, it risks undermining prosecutorial neutrality. Justice then begins to look like performance.
A second legal benchmark is whether submissions are confined to establishing a prima facie case through admissible evidence. Courts do not operate on conjecture, moral judgment, or social anger. Assertions that rely on incomplete investigations or speculative narratives weaken, rather than strengthen, the legal process.
A third standard is professional decorum. The concept of “unbecoming conduct” is well established in legal ethics. Even vigorous advocacy must preserve the dignity of both the office and the court. When arguments appear tailored to satisfy public sentiment rather than legal precedent, they risk violating this standard.
A fourth lens of analysis is the principle of reasonableness, often associated with Wednesbury unreasonableness. While traditionally applied to administrative decisions, it offers a useful test here: would any reasonable legal professional, familiar with established law and facts, make such an argument in such a manner? If the answer is no, the argument may fairly be described as irrational rather than merely forceful.
Sri Lanka’s Supreme Court has repeatedly reminded officers of the Attorney General’s Department of their core responsibility to do justice. The aim of a government lawyer is not to secure convictions at any cost, but to assist the court in arriving at a fair outcome. This includes acting without prejudice, maintaining impartiality, and resisting political or social pressures.
Judicial independence is another critical dimension. Attempts to influence judges through emotional framing or popular narratives can amount to a serious ethical breach. In extreme cases, such conduct may even approach contempt of court. Unfortunately, there remains a misconception within parts of Sri Lanka’s legal culture that aggressive rhetoric equates to strength. In reality, it often signals institutional insecurity.
Ultimately, this debate is not about silencing prosecutors or weakening the state’s case. It is about preserving the credibility of the justice system. When a state lawyer speaks, he speaks not for himself, but for the entire republic. If his words appear irrelevant, irrational, or politically charged, they risk damaging not just one case, but public confidence in the Attorney General’s Department itself.
A legal system does not collapse overnight. It erodes slowly, when lines blur, when restraint gives way to performance, and when justice begins to resemble spectacle. The present discussion, uncomfortable though it may be, is therefore timely. It is a reminder that in a democracy, even the most powerful legal institutions must remain accountable to law, ethics, and reason.
